


Honey Trap

by FanboyPhaedrus



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Affection, Age Difference, Anal Sex, Arguing, Battle of Hogwarts, Bottom Draco, Draco Malfoy-centric, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Gentle Sex, Hate to Love, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Kissing, Lies, M/M, Oral Sex, Rare Pairings, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Tension, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 80,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanboyPhaedrus/pseuds/FanboyPhaedrus
Summary: It is well known that frivolous emotions such as love and desire can make fools of the best of men.  Staunchly guarded Alastor Moody certainly hadn't considered himself to be as risk from such feelings when he was set the task to guard the most spoilt, unpleasant boy he had ever met in his life.However, a lot can change in a few days when you are alone with someone in a frozen forest.  Thrown together, Alastor and Draco quickly discover sides to each other they didn't know existed, and one particularly cold evening, things take an unexpected turn!Alastor finds getting close to people difficult but can't resist Draco's charms and affection.  But can the boy really be trusted?  Are Draco's feelings genuine or is this all some kind of trick?  Is Alastor about to make the biggest mistake of his career... and his life?





	1. Mission Breifing

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in Harry Potter's 7th year at Hogwarts, taking place in the January of 1998. For clarity I will set out aspects that differ from canon:  
> • The ministry has not fallen and the Aurors are still in operation. However, Death Eater power is rising and many of the ministries operations are being intercepted and sabotaged.  
> • Draco's birthday is at the start of October, making him one of the oldest in his school year rather than one of the youngest. Hence he is 18 years old while his class mates are still 17.  
> • Alastor Moody is approximately 51 years old. I couldn't find an exact age for him on any website. It's clear that he had fought in the first war as an Auror and therefore must have been at least 36 when he died in canon. However, in canon he had retired from active service and was the most famous Auror who ever lived, so I perceive him being a little older than 36. Brendon Gleeson was in his 50s when he played him and this feels about right to me. I picture him being slightly older than Lucius Malfoy, who was 44 at the battle of Hogwarts.  
> • Draco has a very poor relationship with his parents and family. Although he loves money and power and enjoys being spoilt, he resents his parents for the darkness and cruelty they exposed him to by association with the death eaters. By the start of Draco's 7th year at Hogwarts both his parents have been arrested, however, at this point Draco has never met Voldemort in person. As he has never met Voldemort he was never tasked to kill Dumbledore. As a result, although death eaters attacked Hogwarts in 6th year, Dumbledore is still alive.  
> • In fact, a number of characters who get killed off in canon will be alive in this fic. I'm just not as cruel as JK, I guess!  
> Content wise, it's my usual, so if you've read any of my stuff before you'll have an idea what to expect. I don't write really dark stuff although there is often some angst, but there'll certainly be some fluff too. There is definitely smut! In fact, I'll be honest, some of this is complete filth and probably shouldn't be read by anyone, ever! However, if you're into the pairing... ;-)  
> Hope you enjoy. I've loved writing this one. I think they are a good pair. After all, Draco needs someone strong enough to keep him in line! Let me know what you think. Anyone else ship it...? Xx

'Come along now, team.'  Cornelius Fudge called in as cheery a voice as he could muster. 

Alastor Moody sighed and sank down in his seat.  This was not a good omen.  Fudge never used words like 'team' unless he had a particularly unpleasant pill he needed to sugar coat.  This mission was going to be a bad one.  Alastor could feel it in his bones. 

Fudge coughed loudly as the last few Aurors filed into the room, finding seats amongst  their colleagues in the rows of chairs which faced the platform where Fudge sat.  Tonks was at the back of course, she tripped over the carpet and swore loudly as she arrived.  Alastor smiled affectionately. 

Glancing around the room, Alastor noticed it was mostly the Advanced Guard in attendance, along with one or two other experienced Aurors from the higher ranks of the main team.  It was clearly something important they were going to be tasked with.  Important and unpleasant, Alastor thought to himself.

'Settle down now...'  Fudge prompted as he tried to call order to the room. 

He really was inept, Alastor reflected.  It was well and truly time for him to retire.  Kingsley Shacklebolt was hotly tipped to be his successor.  In Alastor's opinion, Kingsley was something of a cad.  However he was a charismatic leader, a strong character.  Whilst as minister he would no doubt lead the newspapers a merry dance with his, shall we say... **vibrant** personal life, he would make a strong and likable minister for magic.  Infinitely more competent and capable than old Cornelius Fudge, who should have stepped down years ago. 

Not one person in the room had stopped talking when Fudge requested silence until Alastor, who was becoming tired of waiting, snapped at them. 

'Quit your yapping and listen up.'  He barked. 

Instantly the room fell silent. 

'Thank you, Alastor...'  Fudge said nervously, feeling rather emasculated.  'Now, then team...'  He continued.  'I have bought you here, a select group, you will no doubt have noticed, because there is a very important and extremely high-risk mission you are required to undertake.'

'And there I was thinking you were sending us on holiday to Marbella!'  Kingsley called out, and a few of his friends around him laughed. 

'Thank you, Shacklebolt!  This is important!'  Fudge asserted.  'There's a war on!' 

'We know!'  A man with a bandage over one eye called from across the room. 

'Then you will know to listen **carefully**!'  Fudge snapped.  'This mission is of vital importance,  but it is a larger task than the Advanced Guard can manage alone, which is why some of you from the regular Aurors have been invited.  Not picked at random, either, if I may say so.  If this mission goes well for you, you may well find yourselves promoted.' 

Some of the regular Aurors straightened up in their chairs. 

'As you all know...'  Fudge continued, getting into his stride at last.  'There's a war going on around us.  At the centre of that war is a group of school children.  Teenagers.  Some of them young adults, admittedly, but very young adults at that.  Only just of age, some of them.  We in the ministry, as responsible adults, have a duty of care to protect them.  Now, we all know, the key players in this war are Harry Potter and his friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger...' 

Fudge tapped his wand on a book on his desk and from it arose translucent images of Harry, Ron and Hermione, almost like holograms. 

'The three of them are travelling and working together.'  Fudge explained.  'The ministry is of course concerned for their safety, but given that there are three of them, and considering the quite remarkable abilities of Miss Granger, we will not be putting Auror protection with them.  Besides, from what we know of prophecies relating to Harry Potter, we know he must be free to act of his own volition in this situation.' 

The room remained silent.  So the task **wasn't** helping Harry Potter.  Some of the young Aurors were disappointed.  They had never actually met the famous boy.  Fudge continued. 

'There are, however, a number of young people caught up in the peripheral of this conflict.  Youngsters who are vulnerable by association, or at risk because of their families or lack thereof.  It's vital that we, as a team, get these young people to a place of safety before the war comes to a head.  Each of you will be tasked with escorting one, or in some cases two, of the children to a safe house in Dove Town...' 

'So...  This is a babysitting mission?'  An Auror named Savage interjected confrontationally.  A few of the others in the room seemed to echo her sentiments. 

'It's much more important that that!'  Fudge snapped crossly.  'You will have to escort your young charges from various locations, on foot.  The Death Eater presence in the area is growing by the day and they are tracing acts of magic left, right and centre!  You will have to walk between shelters, protecting your charge at all costs!  Your routes have been mapped out for you and there are concealed shelters for overnight stops along the way.  Inside these shelters, you will be safe to use minimal magic.  Warming charms, lighting fires etcetera, as required.'  Fudge explained.  'You will have to cover a distance of up to 20 - 25 miles per day.'  He added. 

There was a murmur around the room.  That was quite a long way to walk each day, especially with a teenager in tow!

'OK then, boss...'  Kingsley called at last.  'Who are we lumbered with?' 

'Much consideration has been given to who is to escort which child.'  Fudge said formally.  'And as such, there will be **no** negotiations between you regarding who you are placed with.'  He added firmly. 

'Let's have it then.'  Tonks called out. 

'Very well.'  Fudge replied. 

He began to read out the names of Aurors and identified who they were to be responsible for.  As he announced each child, he tapped his wand on the book, conjuring up an image of them.  He described who they were and why they were considered to be at risk. 

'Nymphadora, you will be responsible for two.  All, well, nearly all of the Advanced Guard members will be escorting two people.'  Fudge explained. 

Tonks sat up and listened carefully. 

'Firstly, Seamus Finnegan.'  Fudge said.  'Gryffindor house, friendly with Harry Potter, although not close.  His father, a muggle, disappeared three days ago and Seamus is considered to be in danger because of this.  Either because the Death Eaters may come for him, or because he may be tempted to go looking for his father.' 

Tonks nodded understandingly. 

'Secondly, Neville Longbottom.  Son of Frank and Alice...' 

There was a deep, reverent silence. 

'Say no more.'  Tonks said seriously.

'Shacklebolt.'  Fudge barked in an attempt to get Kingsley to sit up and look a little more formal.  He was currently leaning back, one foot resting on his knee casually. 

'Yes boss!'  He replied without flinching. 

'Two young ladies will be placed in your care...' 

This information made Kingsley sit up a little. 

'Miss Lavander Brown, 17 years old.  And Miss Padma Patel, also 17 years old.' 

Fudge tapped the book and a images of Lavender and Padma appeared. 

A wide smile spread across Kingsley's face, reaching almost from ear to ear and he leant back, putting his hands behind his head. 

'Both of age, you say...?'  He replied with a playful grin. 

There were several cat calls from around the room. 

'Nice one, Kingsley!' 

and...

'Always gets the cushy jobs!' 

'Boss...  I reckon you'd be better sending Kingsley with a couple of lads, you know!'  Savage interjected and received a playful punch from Kingsley in response

'I will take this opportunity to remind all of you that fraternising with your charges is **highly** inappropriate and will be considered an act of **serious misconduct**!'  Fudge asserted. 

'Hey!'  Kingsley spoke up.  'I'm a very moral man, you know!  I can behave myself perfectly...  Question is, can they?'  He grinned. 

'Two of 'em, fighting over you!'  Dawlish laughed. 

'There's enough of me to go round!'  Kingsley replied confidently, glancing down at his crotch suggestively. 

There were more cat calls from the others as no one took Fudge's 'serious misconduct' comment very seriously.  Nor did they take Kingsley's boasting very seriously either.  It was simply Auror banter. 

'Enough!'  Fudge shouted crossly as he continued with his task.  'Miss Brown has, in the past been romantically linked to Ron Weasley and is considered to at risk by association.  Miss Patel, her close friend, accompanied Harry Potter to the Yule ball a few years ago.  She is a gifted seer and may be at risk as she could be considered useful.  I am informed that both girls are somewhat silly and skittish, but generally are considered to be biddable and compliant.' 

'They will be by the time Shacklebolt's done with them!'  Dawlish laughed.  'Fully trained to be part of his harem!' 

'Jealous, Dawlish?'  Kingsley teased.  'Just because you got a boy!' 

'Enough of that!'  Fudge yelled angrily. 

These Aurors were a rowdy bunch, but the Advanced Guard should really set a better example!  Fudge wondered why Alastor didn't pull them up about their behaviour, but deep down, he knew full well if Alastor Moody was speaking, there wouldn't be a peep out of any of them. 

'Moving on...'  Fudge continued.  'To the last child who needs escorting.' 

Alastor sighed.  He had not yet been awarded anyone and knew this last one must be for him. 

'I assume you've saved the best for last?'  He spoke up, sarcastically. 

'The last young man **is** perhaps the most challenging.'  Fudge said calmly and without apology.  'Which is why he is being placed with you, Alastor.' 

'Wonderful.'  Alastor grumbled. 

Some of the Advanced Guard laughed, which shocked the regular Aurors, but the Advanced Guard knew Alastor well and understood his sense of humour. 

Fudge drew a deep breath. 

'Draco Malfoy.'  Fudge said in a serious tone.

A commiserating murmur ran round the room. 

Fudge tapped his wand on the book and the image of a slender, ice blond young man appeared.  Although it was just a magical image, it seemed to sneer at the onlookers, a haughty expression of contempt on the fine, chiselled face. 

'Unlucky!'  Savage called over to Alastor. 

Alastor rolled his eyes.  He should have known! 

'Draco Malfoy, 18 years old...'  Fudge began.  'As you know, is the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, both of whom are currently in Azkaban prison...' 

'I know.'  Alastor spoke up.  'I put them there!' 

'Quite.'  Fudge replied.  'Draco is considered to be at risk for a number of reasons.  He has grown up surrounded by Death Eaters.  He seems to subscribe to some aspects of pure-blood supremacy.  He allegiances are unknown and he certainly displays no loyalty or fondness towards Potter or Dumbledore.  However, he did display genuine fear at the suggestion that his maternal aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange might attempt to find him and recruit him for the Death Eaters.  Draco Malfoy has actually **asked** for protection.  However it is generally the opinion of the Ministry that Draco Malfoy will not be an easy charge to manage.' 

Moody sighed.  Of course he wouldn't be! 

'He will need constant supervision and should not be extended any trust whatsoever.'  Fudge explained.  'That's why he's being placed with you, Alastor.  'We need someone with your experience and your vigilance to manage him.  He's stubborn, selfish, argumentative and spoilt...' 

'And those are just his good qualities!'  Savage called from across the room. 

Fudge shot her an angry look, although many of the others laughed. 

'He's potentially the most likely to run and perhaps the most likely to be kidnapped if there's an opportunity.  What we don't want to do is to lose him to the dark side, Alastor.  He has his faults, but he's a competent wizard and he's gifted at Legilimency and Occlumency.  For those reasons, he's dangerous.  If we lose him, we potentially arm the Dark Lord with yet another weapon he can use against us.'

Alastor nodded. 

'You will pick up your charges tomorrow.  Now that you all know who you are to work with, you may come and collect the relevant files and read them.  You will also see the maps of your intended routes.'  Fudge commanded.  'Once you have read the information fully you may retire for the evening.' 

A general conversational buzz picked up in the room again as the Aurors stood up and made their way to the desk at the front. 

'You lucky git!'  Dawlish teased Kingsley, who laughed at him. 

Savage turned to Alastor. 

'Bad luck, Sir!'  She said jovially. 

Moody grunted and looked for his file on the desk.  Each file was marked with the young person's name.  He couldn't see the name Draco Malfoy written anywhere. 

'Here's yours.'  Fudge offered, handing him a file of information. 

Alastor scanned his magical eye over it.  No name on it.  Simply the words 'The Brat' written in clear handwriting where the name should be.  He looked at Fudge questioningly. 

'Oh... yes.'  Fudge said, embarrassed.  'That was the, errr... code name we were using for him.' 

Alastor sighed.  Draco Malfoy, code name 'The Brat'. 

This was going to be a long and unpleasant mission!           


	2. The Brat

 

The fateful day arrived.  The Aurors and the Advanced Guard, bags packed and fully briefed on their mission, gathered to collect their charges.  Only a few of the young people were present, some of them had to be collected from other locations for greater security, but a good handful of them had been bought to the secret headquarters by Fudge and his associates.  A large meeting room had been cleared and the whole company assembled within, children being paired with their guardians like muggle evacuees in a time of war.  It was not a cheery scene, most of the children were very nervous.    

Miss Brown and Miss Patel, Alastor noticed were not dressed entirely appropriately for a long trek through woodland, especially not considering the fact that it was winter.  They both had far too much flesh on show and wore rather insufficient footwear. 

'Ladies, you're going to need some better coats with you.'  He said firmly.  'Otherwise you'll catch your death of cold.' 

'Oh, don't worry about us, Auror Moody.'  Lavender giggled.  'I'm sure Auror Shacklebolt can keep us warm!' 

She and Padma dissolved into giggles and glanced over at Kingsley, blushing.  Kingsley beamed back at them. 

'I'm sure I can!'  He replied with a rakish smile.  'But never the less, if you don't go and find yourselves some warmer coats, I'm gonna have to find you some nice, grey, Ministry issue overcoats...  And I'm sure you don't want that, now, do you?' 

Both girls stopped giggling at once and assured him that they would go and find some warmer clothes in their bags and they scampered out of the room hurriedly. 

'Watch yourself with those two!'  Alastor warned his friend. 

Kingsley laughed. 

'I can handle them!'  He replied. 

'It's you **handling** them we're worried about!'  Dawlish chimed in and a couple of people, including Alastor chuckled. 

'Just you behave yourself, Shacklebolt!'  Alastor grinned.  'Or Fudge will have you for " _serious misconduct"_!' 

Kingsley laughed.  Alastor may have been his superior, but he was still very much a field-Auror and knew the score. 

'I'll behave myself.'  Kingsley grinned.  'Maybe 10 years ago I wouldn't have done, but to be honest I'm not sure I could cope with the teenage hormones, these days.  Too much hassle.  Give me a more sophisticated woman any day.' 

'Tell me you're not still messing around with that cougar murderess, Zafinia Zabini?'  Dawlish groaned.  A sentiment which seemed to be echoed by a couple of others in the room. 

'Hey!  That's my woman you're talking about.'  Kingsley retorted.  ' **Hot** cougar murderess, if you don't mind!'  He grinned.    

'We don't mind you screwing with her, only we kind of like you, you know... alive!  Zafina has a kind of dodgy track record there, you know!  Seven deceased husbands, is it?'  Dawlish teased his workmate. 

'Don't worry about that, Dawlish.'  Moody spoke up.  'Ms Zabini will have no intention of **marrying** Kingsley.  He isn't rich enough for that!' 

Dawlish laughed, so did Kingsley.  They all loved it when Alastor Moody took the time to get involved in their banter. 

'She ain't after my money!'  Kingsley grinned.  'She's more interested in my **other attributes**.' He said with a suggestive swagger which was met by a rowdy jeer. 

'Your dazzling personality?'  Alastor said sarcastically and the others began to laugh.   

Just then, Fudge arrived in the room and the high spiritedness died down. 

Fudge scanned the scene. 

'Dawlish!'  He barked.  'Your charge is waiting for you.  Your lackadaisical behaviour is not inspiring confidence.' 

Dawlish pulled a very false smile and picked up his bag. 

'Have fun, Kingsley.'  He grinned.  'Hope it's not **too** bad, Sir.'  He added to Moody as he left the room. 

There were only a few of them left now.  The young people standing close to their Auror guardians looking generally very scared and timid.  The Aurors were doing all they could to put them at ease.  Tonks was best at that sort of thing, but she was collecting her two boys directly from Hogwarts.

'Alastor.'  Fudge called to Moody.  'No sign of young Mr Malfoy yet?' 

'Not yet.'  Alastor confirmed.  'I assume he's not been left unescorted?' 

'Well, he wanted a few moments... to visit the bathroom, collect his things...'  Fudge began nervously. 

'Listen Fudge, if he's gone missing before you even hand him over to me, I swear I'll...'  Alastor began but remembered himself at the last minute.  'You were the one who warned me I would need constant vigilance to  properly manage The Brat...'  He said gruffly.    

'Who's " _The Brat"_?'  A boys rather high pitched voice came from the doorway. 

The occupants of the room turned round suddenly to see the rather striking figure of Draco Malfoy, tall, slender and elegant, leaning casually against the doorframe. 

His ridiculous outfit made Lavender and Padma look positively sensibly dressed.  His tight leather trousers were cut obscenely close and were so low on his hips it looked as though he probably had to wax his pubic hair to be able to wear them.  He wore a top made from a sort of close knit mesh fabric with a high collar which stood up around his jaw line.  Over this, he wore a long, flowing black cloak, shot with black sequined threads which swished flamboyantly around his ankles.  Anyone who knew wizard couture would have known that these were the very pinnacle of high fashion.  However, a muggle born in the corner giggled, as to the untrained eye, this outfit was rather eccentric.  To the muggle born girl, Draco looked rather like a cross-dressing Disney villain. 

'Who's " _The Brat_ "?'  Draco repeated, delighted that his presence commanded the attention of the whole room. 

'It's their code name for **you**.'  A plucky Gryffindor girl spoke up, a touch of malice in her voice. 

Draco raised his eyebrows and casually lifted his hand and inspected his nails.  He absent mindedly pushed the cuticles back and pouted slightly. 

' _The Brat_...'  He mused, and deciding his nails were perfect, he lowered his hand.  ' _The Brat_...  I rather like that.'  He said with a haughty and contemptuous sneer.

He sashayed into the room, looking around him, looking down his nose at everyone, including the Minister For Magic. 

'Well well, Minister!  I must say, I'm a little disappointed.'  The Brat drawled.  'To think, you told me you were assembling your very best team of Aurors, and this...'  He gestured around him, 'is what you've come up with!'

There was a stunned silence.  Even the Aurors didn't usually speak to Fudge quite like that! 

'But if this is the best you can do...'  Draco continued, 'I suppose I'll go with Auror Shacklebolt.  He looks the most capable.' 

'Errrr... It's been decided, Mr Malfoy, that you will be escorted by Auror Moody.'  Fudge managed in response. 

Draco stopped still and then turned to glare at Fudge. 

' _It's been decided_?'  He echoed disbelievingly.  'What do you mean, " _it's been decided"_?  You mean I don't get to chose?' 

'Auror Moody is the leader of the Advanced Guard.'  Cornelius Fudge explained, trying to sell the situation to Draco.  'He's the most experienced Auror we have.' 

Draco looked Alastor up and down and turned to Fudge with a slightly disgusted look on his face. 

'A little too experienced I'd say!'  Draco retorted.  'He should be retired by now, by the looks of him!'

'Auror Moody is only a few of years older than Auror Shacklebolt...'  Fudge lied. 

'Well he doesn't look it!'  Draco snapped, talking about Alastor as if he wasn't there.  'He looks in dreadful shape, what's left of him, that is!  Minister, I really think I should be able to chose who I have protecting me!  Particularly as I am in far greater danger than any of these others!  I need someone capable... and quick!'  Draco added, glancing at Moody's staff and false leg. 

'Auror Moody has been working for many years and been in a good many battles.'  Fudge desperately tried to pacify Draco.  'He's got the scars to prove it, yes, but he's an excellent fighter...'

'If he's so excellent how come he's got so many scars?'  Draco asked haughtily. 

Alastor had had enough. 

He grabbed Draco roughly by the shoulder and spun him round. 

'Listen up, sonny.'  He snapped.  'If you are not happy with this arrangement then you can just make your way back home and wait for your aunty Bella to come and collect you.' 

Draco was suddenly as white as a sheet and Alastor thought he saw his lip tremble for a split second.   However, he did his best to compose himself and he sighed huffily, but said nothing. 

Rather nervously, Fudge spoke. 

'Well then, now that's all sorted you can make the final steps before you get on your way.'  He smiled a false smile to hide his anxiety.

'Very well.'  Alastor replied.  He turned to Draco.  'We'll need to find you some sensible clothes first of all.'  He said gruffly.  'I'm taking you through a forest, not for a night on the town!' 

Draco glowered and his eyes narrowed. 

'Ha!'  He retorted.  'Taking **me** for a night on the town?  In your dreams, Auror Moody!'  He hissed and he turned and flounced out of the room to search in his bags for the closest things he had to 'sensible' clothes.

                        *                                    *                               *                              *                                   *

Once The Brat was as near to sensibly dressed as he was capable of, they were able to set off.  Fudge saw them off on their way and Draco registered his displeasure by not saying a word and simply glaring at him as he wished them a safe journey. 

The weather was cold, the trees were bare, except a few orange and brown leaves tinged with sliver frost which glistened in the sunlight.  It was a beautiful crisp day and would have been perfect for a long walk in the woods, were it not for the company, Alastor thought to himself. 

Alastor carried a large pack of provisions and essentials.  Draco carried a smaller bag of personal possessions which looked much lighter than the pack that Alastor carried.  Still it was Draco who wore a hard-done-to expression on his face as though having to carry his own bag was an enormous inconvenience.  Draco said nothing to Alastor until they entered the forest.

‘How exactly are we getting to Dove Town anyway?’  He asked in a confrontational tone.

‘Walking.’  Moody said flatly in response. 

Draco stopped in his tracks suddenly.

‘Walking?’  He exclaimed.  ‘Walking!  All the way to Dove Town!’  He sounded furious. 

‘How did you think we’d get there?’  Moody snapped.  ‘Luxury Thestral-drawn carriage?  That would make us easy for the death eaters to spot, wouldn’t it?’

Draco rolled his eyes sarcastically.

‘Obviously I didn’t think that!’  He shot back at Alastor.  ‘I'm not stupid!  I just thought that perhaps the ministry would have something better up its sleeve  than sending a vulnerable, innocent child hundreds of miles on foot!’

‘It's not hundreds of miles and you're not a child.  You’re 18.’ Alastor retorted.  ‘You’re more than capable of walking.  In fact, I’m sure it’s far easier for you than it is for me, and you don’t hear me complaining, do you?’

Draco sighed a huffy sigh.

‘Well I did suggest that it might be better for me to be accompanied by someone in better physical condition.’  He retorted crossly. 

‘Don’t you worry about my physical condition.’  Alastor replied.  ‘I'm fast enough to get out of the way if we are attacked.  Question is, are you?’

Draco’s eyes blazed. 

‘I shouldn’t need to worry about that!’  He exclaimed defensively.  ‘You’re supposed to be protecting me!’

‘I **am** protecting you, you little Brat and don’t you forget it.’  Alastor barked.  ‘I don’t know how you usually speak to people but you’d better start showing a little more respect if you want me to do a good job of looking out for you!’

‘It's your job to protect me!’  Draco hissed crossly.  ‘You have to do it whether you want to or not.  And if anything happens to me because you didn’t protect me properly you’ll be in trouble!’

Alastor glared at him wondering how it was possible for someone to be so obnoxious. 

‘I always do my duty.’  Alastor grunted.  ‘No one would question my practice if anything were to accidently go wrong!’

Draco bristled up and stepped confrontationally close to Alastor.

‘Are you threatening me, Auror Moody?  That’s very professional, I must say!’  He snapped. 

Alastor opened his mouth to speak but then thought better of it.  Draco was so annoying and was clearly trying to back him into a corner and make him say something he would regret.

Draco glared at him awaiting his response.

Alastor turned away.

‘Just keep walking.’  He barked. 

Draco had half a mind to escalate this argument further but Alastor was walking away from him and he didn’t want to be left alone in the forest.  He kept quiet and followed in angry silence.

They trudged on.  From time to time, Alastor glanced back at The Brat to make sure he was still there.  He seemed to have taken to walking a few steps behind when he wasn't trying to interact.  Draco looked about himself with some interest and seemed to be listening to the sounds of the birds and other forest noises quite happily...  Until he noticed Alastor looking at him that was.  Whenever he noticed that, his face immediately returned to its usual scowl and he would glare crossly at his guardian until Alastor looked away again.  Draco clearly did not want to be seen to be enjoying the walk, not even for a second. 

After an hour or so The Brat spoke up again. 

'I need to visit the bathroom.'  He said flatly. 

Alastor stopped and looked about them. 

'Over there.'  He gestured to a dense clump of bushes. 

'Where?'  Draco replied, having looked and not having seen anything that remotely resembled a bathroom. 

'In the bushes.'  Alastor replied, folding his arms, envisaging a tantrum.

'I beg your pardon?'  Draco exclaimed sounding both shocked and horrified in equal parts. 

'Don't tell me you were expecting deluxe toilet facilities to appear every step of the way, as and when you required them?'  Alastor scoffed. 

'We're wizards, for Merlin's sake!'  Draco shouted.  'Can't we conjure something up that's a little better than having to... you know... in the damn bushes?  We're not animals!  We're not **muggles**!' 

He said the word _'muggles'_ with emphasis, to indicate he considered them to be lower than animals.  Alastor fought every urge to sit him down and give him a lecture on muggle equality, and to point out that muggles actually had excellent sanitation systems and were not in the habit of doing their business in the bushes.  This was not the time. 

'We can't use unnecessary magic.  Not unless we want the Death Eaters to trace us.'  Alastor said in an authoritarian tone. 

'What's that supposed to mean?'  Draco snapped defensively. 

'It means you go in the bushes or you wait until we get to the shelter tonight.'  Alastor said with some satisfaction as Draco looked horrified. 

'You might... _look_ at me!'  Draco said defensively. 

Alastor closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.  He wondered if any of his colleagues were having such a challenging time. 

'I have no intention of _looking_ at you.'  He said as calmly as he could manage. 

Draco reluctantly made his way towards the bushes. 

'I suppose it doesn't matter anyway.'  He said sarcastically.  'You can probably see anything you want with that freaky eye of yours.  Merlin only knows what you've been looking at when you keep staring at me.' 

He pouted crossly and disappeared behind the bushes whilst Alastor clenched his fists tightly.  If they both survived this trip it would be a miracle, and the risks were nothing to do with Death Eaters!

Draco emerged from the bushes, still with a look of horror and disgust on his face and they carried on walking. 

It was another hour or so before Draco spoke again. 

'I'm old enough to apparate, you know.  I don't see why the ministry couldn't just give me the coordinates for the safe-house and let me get there that way.' 

Alastor stopped and turned to face Draco.  He was reaching his limit.   

'This was explained to you.'  He said crossly.  'The Death Eaters are tracking people when they apparate, and perhaps more importantly, where they apparate to.  If you apparate to the safe-house they could follow your magical trace and find all of us.  You know this, so shut up and walk.  I'm sick of listening to you.' 

To Alastor's surprise Draco fell silent.  He didn't even look angry.  He looked, if anything, quite hurt.  Unsure how to respond, Alastor turned away and kept walking. 

'I didn't ask for this, you know.'  A voice came from behind him.  A quieter, more vulnerable voice than the one he was used to hearing.  Still a defensive voice, but noticeably different than previously. 

Alastor stopped in his tracks but didn't turn round. 

'I never wanted any of this to happen.'  The hurt little voice continued. 

Alastor glanced back at Draco who was standing still, looking lost and hopeless. 

'What do you mean?'  Alastor asked.  'I thought you asked for help from the Ministry?' 

Draco looked genuinely pained. 

'I never wanted my stupid parents to side with the Dark Lord!'  He exclaimed, sounding both cross and sad.  'I never wanted to spend my entire childhood hiding from a house full of Death Eaters.  I certainly never wanted to have to leave my home and run in fear to a safe-house!  Yes, I asked for help, but I never wanted **this**.  I never wanted **any** of it.' 

His outburst over, Draco began to walk and Alastor had no option but to do the same as he was supposedly leading the way. 

They walked in silence but Alastor thought over what Draco had said.  It was certainly illuminating, if it were true.  If it were true, it showed that Draco, obnoxious though he may be, had no very little fondness for his parents and certainly no allegiance to the Dark Lord.  Alastor couldn't quite believe himself, but he felt his first twinge of pity for The Brat.  After all, what chance did he have of being anything other than a Brat when he had been raised by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy in a house full of Death Eaters?  It probably wasn't entirely his fault and the fact he seemed not to have bought into their philosophy was to his credit.  It wasn't much, but it was the first glimpse at a redeeming feature that Alastor had seen.           

        


	3. A Cautionary Tale

 

'I'm hungry!'  The Brat whined. 

Alastor checked his pocket watch.  It was nearly 2pm.  The Brat had done quite well not to moan about hunger before now.  He paused and looked about them for somewhere to stop. 

'Here.'  He replied, gesturing to a small grassy clearing. 

Draco eyed it suspiciously and Alastor got the feeling he was looking for a table and chairs and perhaps a waiter with a menu.  However, Draco must have been very hungry because in a matter of seconds he had managed to resign himself to the fact that this patch of grass was the best he was going to get on this occasion.  He sauntered over.    

Alastor rested heavily on his staff as he lowered himself to sit.  He opened the large bag and took out a small pack of food.  He untied the bundle and spread out the cloth which contained the food supplies.  There was a loaf of brown bread and a couple of apples, and very little else.  Draco had not yet sat down and Alastor looked at him expectantly. 

With a certain degree of reluctance, Draco sat down on the grass. 

Alastor, who decided there was no point standing on ceremony, helped himself to a chunk of bread and began to eat.  He was pretty hungry too, now that he thought about it, and it was a few moments before he realised that The Brat had not begun to eat.  Alastor looked at him and frowned. 

Draco was looking at him expectantly, as thought waiting for something. 

'Well?'  Draco said in a frustrated voice.  'Aren't you going to slice some for me?'  

Alastor scoffed.  He should have known The Brat was going to say something like that.  He ignored him and carried on eating. 

Draco looked shocked, offended and then a little concerned. 

'Fine!'  He snapped at last, snatching the breadknife. 

Draco eyed the knife for a moment, a little suspiciously before he reached for the bread.  He placed the knife blade on top of the loaf and pressed down hard.  The bread seemed to squash under the pressure.  Draco changed his technique to a sawing motion.  The knife began to slice through the bread, a good thick slice at the top, but as Draco continued the slice got thinner and thinner until it fell apart leaving Draco with less than half a proper slice of bread. 

Alastor frowned as he looked at Draco, watching his face closely.  Draco looked confused, then angry and then deeply disappointed.  He gave a cross, huffy sigh and bit down on his lip as he desperately tried to keep his expression looking angry rather than sad. 

Suddenly Alastor realised. 

'You've never had to cut bread for yourself before, have you?'  He asked. 

Draco glared at him. 

'No!'  He hissed, sounding jaded. 

Alastor moved round beside him.  Draco's demand for the bread to be cut was not purely the act of a spoilt child.  It was an attempt to cover up the fact that he didn't have the required skills to do it himself and was clearly afraid to admit it. 

'I'll help you.'  Alastor said, and without being invited, he leant over and took hold of Draco's hand which held the knife. 

Draco flinched in surprise as Alastor gently guided his hand back to the loaf. 

'Hold the bread firmly with one hand...'  Alastor advised.  'And then saw slowly, keeping focused on the line you want to cut...  A bit like slicing mandrake roots...  You've done that, I reckon...?' 

'Uh-huh.'  Draco confirmed timidly, concentrating on the bread. 

He pulled his hand back and was amazed to see a perfect slice fall down against the cloth.  Alastor glanced at him and saw Draco's face looking entirely different from how he had seen it before.  Draco was smiling. 

'There you go.'  Alastor said, pulling away from the boy and returning to his place, leaning against a tree trunk.  'You did well there.'  He said in his warm, gruff voice. 

Draco was beaming.  Positively glowing!  As though any kind of praise fed him more than bread could ever do! 

Suddenly he remembered himself and fixed his face back into his practiced, conceited sneer.  He snatched the bread and began to eat. 

They ate in silence, although The Brat managed a courteous nod of his head when Alastor cut the wonky first attempt at a slice in to two so that they could have half each.  They ate an apple each to conclude the meal and Alastor promptly began to dig a small hole in the ground with a spoon once they had finished eating. 

Draco frowned at him like he was crazy. 

'What are you doing?'  Draco snapped, hoping he wasn't going to be expected to eat with that spoon at any point. 

'Got to bury these apple cores.'  Alastor replied, looking around him.  'Can't risk leaving clues lying around.  Anyone could be trying to track us down.'

Draco scoffed. 

'Apple cores?'  He exclaimed sarcastically.  'As if anyone would find us because of that!' 

'Constant vigilance!'  Alastor replied, throwing the cores into the hole and covering them over. 

Draco frowned and looked highly sceptical, but despite this, he picked up a few fallen leaves and laid them over the freshly turned earth.  It was Alastor's turn to frown.  The Brat had just been helpful! 

'What?'  Draco hissed crossly, noticing that Alastor was staring at him. 

Draco was quieter after lunch.  He argued less, but the atmosphere was still tense.  Alastor thought it was as though Draco recognised that Alastor had been kind to him, but he didn't want to let his guard down and actually behave in a civilised way.  Alastor eyed him suspiciously from time to time wondering if perhaps he was crediting Draco with more human qualities than he actually had. 

It was after 4pm when The Brat started whining _'Are we nearly there yet?'_   and Alastor replied as calmly as he could.  The first time he was very calm, and the second time, less so.  The third time he snapped. 

'Oh shut up Malfoy!  Yes!  We are nearly there!  Be quiet!' 

He noticed Draco's whole body language change as he bristled up and his face turned hard.  He didn't reply.  Alastor sighed.  Perhaps he could have tried to be a little more patient?

At last the little hut loomed into view.  A small, wooden, shed-like structure which from a distance looked rather basic.  It didn't look any better the closer they got and Draco's nose was already starting to crinkle in disapproval.  Alastor braced himself for an impending tantrum.    

Inside the hut was actually quite well appointed although Draco sneered at the miss-matched furniture and worn, threadbare textiles.  However, Alastor knew, as remote ministry safe shelters went, this was a pretty good one.  There was a decent fire place, a large if rather scruffy sofa.  There was a kitchen area with a sink, there was one single bed in the corner of the room with a faded crochet blanket thrown over it.  There wasn’t much of a table, just a kind of make shift crate with a couple of boxes for chairs.  However there was a small bookcase with a handful of books, and a rather dusty vase of enchanted flowers, as an attempt to make the place feel more homely.  It really wasn’t bad at all.  Alastor slipped his bag from his shoulder with a weary sigh. 

‘Well!  This is lovely!’  Draco drawled sarcastically. 

‘I wouldn’t complain if I were you.’  Alastor replied gruffly.  ‘I dare say you’ll see worse places than this before the journey is over.’  He took a sense of pleasure in the look of horror that appeared on The Brats haughty face.  

Draco reluctantly slipped his own bag off his shoulder and placed it on the floor with great suspicion as though he feared contact with this scruffy building might somehow contaminate his possessions. 

Alastor ignored him and pointed his wand at the fireplace and shot a bolt of flames into the grate which instantly sprung to life.  He sighed contentedly. 

Draco was still looking rather awkward and wooden.  He stood still, afraid to touch anything, doubting it’s cleanliness. 

Alastor continued to ignore his sneers.  Just because The Brat was too stubborn to relax it didn’t mean he couldn’t.  

‘What books have they laid on for our entertainment...?’  Alastor wondered aloud, whether or not the Brat was inclined to interact with him.  Although he did notice that, in spite of himself, Draco show some mild interest in the mention of books. 

‘All a bit high brow...’  Alastor reflected.  ‘Good thing it’s me here not someone like Dawlish...  he’d be complaining there’s nothing light and racy...  Very out of character for a Ravenclaw, that one!’ 

The Brat didn’t respond.  Alastor noticed some of these books were from muggle culture.  High or low, the Brat probably wouldn’t approve of them anyway. 

Alastor picked up one of the volumes.

‘Hummmm....  Death in Venice.’  Alastor read out the title.  ‘Now there’s a cautionary tale if ever there was one written.  _Even the most esteemed of men can bring about their own downfall if they drop their guard and give in to weakness._   A tragic warning against the folly of emotion.’ 

‘I hardly think so!’  A surprisingly impassioned voice answered him. 

Alastor had been thinking aloud really, he hadn’t anticipated Draco joining in any kind of conversation with him. 

‘Oh...?’  He prompted, both shocked and curious that Draco had any kind of opinion on the matter. 

‘The tragedy in the story is that Aschenbach dies for nothing!'  Draco exclaimed, talking about the character as if he were talking about a real life friend.  'The warning is that he never acted on his emotions, never allowed himself any happiness, and he died anyway.  And even if he hadn't died, if he’d have run away to safety when he first tried to, he would have lived...  But what for?  A few more years of loneliness and misery?  Personally I perceived the moral of the story to be _however great you are, life may be short so you should never hide in fear from your feelings_.’  Draco said in a straightforward way. 

Alastor was slightly gobsmacked.  He had never heard The Brat say quite so much in one go, and none of it moaning or complaining! 

Draco continued almost instinctively  as Alastor hadn’t responded or contradicted his opinion. 

‘And that’s before we even consider the story's messages about challenging restrictive social conventions and limitations!  You can hardly ignore the references to classical culture, pointing out that social values are transient anyway!’  Draco exclaimed vehemently.  ‘And then there's the fact that we hear so little of Tadzio's voice in the narrative.   Both characters are trapped by their lives and expectations and they tiptoe around their desires...’ 

‘You think Tadzio had similar desires to Aschenbach?’  Alastor asked. 

‘They're subtlety expressed but if you read between the lines, and you think about how little freedom he had because of his family, then it's clear.'  Draco explained.  'Standing too close, glances across the room...  walking slowly so that Aschenbach can follow...  OK so he wasn’t brave about it, neither of them were and in the end they both lose out.  And Aschenbach dies for nothing more than a beautiful smile in a moonlight garden.  **That’s** the tragic warning as far as I can see.’  Draco concluded confidently. 

Alastor was almost too shocked to respond.  Not only had Draco expressed a succinct and considered opinion, he had engaged in real conversation about something in which he seemed interested.  He was thoughtful and intelligent!  He had kept that pretty well hidden! 

Just then, Draco remember himself.  Internally, he chastised himself for letting his guard down and engaging on a sensible level, but he was surprised that someone as coarse as Alastor had ever read a book like Death in Venice.  It hardly seemed like his sort of thing.  Draco straightened himself up and fixed a stony expression back on his face. 

‘Anyway, I’m surprised you’ve even read a book like that.  You hardly seem like the reading type.’  Draco snapped.   

Alastor was bought back to reality with a bump.  Draco was still the same Brat. 

‘I dare say I’m more well read than you are.’  He replied scowling.  ‘Although I’m rather surprised at you having a considered opinion on anything other than your hairstyle.’  Alastor retorted, getting his own back. 

Draco scowled back at him.  

‘I'm very well read, thank you very much!’  He hissed.  ‘And I’ve got lots of opinions about things.  I just don’t see the point in sharing them with someone like you!’ 

Yes.  Still the same Brat.  

Alastor sighed crossly. 

‘I'm going outside to chop some wood for the fire.  See if you can do anything useful while I’m out and sort out something to eat, if that’s not too much like hard work for you.’

With that Alastor left the room, slamming the door behind him happy to have the chance to take his frustrations out on the log pile outside for a while.  He would take his time.  There was no hurry.  

Alastor chopped far more wood than was necessary for one evening, but it was a good way to avoid  having to go back into the hut with Draco.  And it would be helpful for the next person who used the hut.  _‘Some people like to be helpful...’_   Alastor muttered under his breath as he stacked the logs in the shelter.   He braced himself ready to go back in and face the Brat.  

Alastor opened the hut door and nearly dropped the logs he was carrying.  

The tatty table had been set.  Draco had taken a throw from the sofa and had laid it over the table like a table cloth.  He had set out knives, forks and plates and two wine glasses.  He had taken a candle from beside the bed, lit it and placed it on the table.  He had taken a wooden board from the kitchen area and had demonstrated his new bread cutting skills by slicing a several pieces from a loaf of bread.  He had also found cheese and butter and placed them on the table too.

He had taken two cushions from the sofa and put them onto the makeshift chairs.  He had stoked up the fire, drawn the curtains and tidied their bags away to the side of the room. 

Alastor's eyes widened with surprise.  The cabin suddenly seemed very atmospheric and cosy. 

Draco, who was standing by the table, jumped when he heard the door open.  He turned round and his wide grey eyes met Alastor's with a searching look, as if for just a second he was seeking approval.  Or perhaps apologising. 

‘I found wine.’  Draco said with a note of friendliness in his voice as if he maybe regretted how hostile he had been.  After all, it had been nice to have a real conversation with someone, even if it had only been brief. 

‘Well done.’  Alastor managed as he set his logs down by the fire. 

He made his way over to the table and took a proper look at Draco’s efforts.   He had even moved the fading flowers in the vase to the table and livened them up with a rejuvenation charm.  Alastor looked at Draco curiously. 

‘You’ve done a nice job here.’  He observed as he sat down.

‘It's how it’s supposed to be done.’  Draco replied stiffly.

Draco sat down opposite him and picked up the bottle of wine and began to pour it.  He poured Alastor's first and then his own but Alastor waited until Draco took a drink first, just to be on the safe side.  Once he was sure it was safe to drink, he relaxed a little.   

‘Are you old enough to drink?’  Alastor asked with a light hearted note in his voice. 

‘I'm 18.’  Draco replied slickly.  ‘I'm old enough to do whatever I want.’ 

Alastor smiled, accepting what seemed to be a peace offering, or at least a temporary truce, from Draco. 

‘I'm sure you usually do, don’t you.’  Alastor replied. 

Draco gave a little laugh. 

‘When I get the chance.’  He replied slyly before straightening up again, not wanting to be too amenable and friendly. 

They ate in silence for a while, Alastor not wanting to push his luck as far as civil interaction was concerned. 

As Draco took his second slice of bread, he spoke.  

‘You know, this really isn’t so bad, is it?’  He observed. 

Alastor noticed that Draco was also on his second glass of wine. 

‘No.  Not too bad at all.’  He agreed jovially.  

Draco took another long sip of wine. 

‘It's rustic, yes...’  He continued.  ‘But it’s not too horrible after all.  You know, actually the rough wood table and the cheese and bread...  It reminds me of this little cafe I’ve been to with my parents on holiday, in Aquitaine near Bordeaux.’  He half smiled.  ‘It's a great little place, completely unpretentious and unassuming but all the locals know it’s the best place in town.  They do these amazing roast butter beans with garlic....  it was great.  The bread and cheese reminds me of that.’  He paused.  ‘Of course, the wine there is a little better.’  He said with a grin. 

Alastor raised one eyebrow with an amused expression. 

‘You’re drinking enough of it to say you’re not keen on it.’  He observed dryly. 

‘I'm an aristocrat, we always drink too much.’  Draco replied without missing a beat.

Alastor laughed.  The Brat wasn’t bad company when he wasn’t being foul. 

‘Have you ever been to France?’  Draco asked Alastor. 

Alastor nodded. 

‘A couple of times.’  Alastor replied.  ‘I’ve been to Bordeaux and travelled over to the mid Pyrenees.   Where were you visiting?’ 

‘Cannes for a week and then a place just outside of Bordeaux.  It was nice, quiet, rural.  My mother hated it.  No shopping opportunities.’  Draco rolled his eyes. 

‘I thought that might be a deal breaker for you, you know.’  Alastor said wondering if he was pushing his luck now. 

‘I shop **before** I go on holiday.’  Draco retorted.  ‘Then, when I’m there, I can just concentrate on looking fabulous.’ 

Alastor laughed.  

‘Does that take a lot of concentration?’  He asked. 

‘Not for me.’  Draco winked playfully. 

The wine was certainly taking some effect.   It was hardly surprising as it had clearly been in the hut for some time.  It was bordering on becoming vinegar. 

Despite this, Alastor poured himself another glass and took a drink. 

‘You know, I really didn’t have you down as someone who reads.’  Draco said apologetically.  ‘Have you read much of Thomas Mann's work?’ 

Alastor accepted the apology and responded to the question. 

‘He’s one of my favourites as far as muggle writers go.  Tonio Kroger is possibly my favourite.’ 

Draco nodded thoughtfully.  

‘Death in Venice is my favourite.’ Draco confessed. 

‘You were certainly animated about it.’  Alastor observed. 

‘Well you interpreted it in a rather bleak way.’  Draco observed. 

‘It's a fairly bleak story.’  Alastor replied.

‘Point taken.’  Draco admitted.  ‘Most of the German writers are fairly bleak though, aren't they.  I like them for that though.  I like Herman Hesse too, and Bernhard Schlink.’ 

‘All very deep, serious stuff.’  Alastor remarked. 

‘I’m a deep and serious person on the quiet!’  Draco grinned.  ‘I'm not all fashion and sarcasm you know.’ 

‘I'm beginning to realise that.’  Alastor smiled. 

The evening was concluding rather pleasantly which was something Alastor would never have imagined based on the rest of the day.  The friendly mood continued as they finished eating and Draco, with a slight stumble in his step, cleared the table. 

Alastor stood up and Draco approached him, standing ever so slightly too close. 

‘There’s one bed.  You’d better have it.’  Draco offered assertively. 

Alastor frowned. 

‘Are you sure?’  Alastor asked him.

‘You’re an old man.  You need the bed.  I’m young enough to sleep on a sofa.’  Draco grinned. 

‘You’re drunk enough to sleep on the sofa!’  Alastor exclaimed observantly. 

Draco grinned. 

‘Not drunk.   Tipsy.’  He replied and he flopped down onto his makeshift bed. 

Alastor left him to it, headed over to the bed and sat down heavily.  He glanced over at Draco.  The boy had taken his shirt off and had flopped back against the cushions, his eyes shut.  Alastor quietly got ready for bed, wondering how difficult it would be to deal with The Brat with a hangover in the morning! 


	4. Long Hard Road

 

Had Alastor known just how irritable The Brat would be after having slept on the sofa, he might have agreed to sleep on it himself, even though his back might not have thanked him!  Surely it would have been less painful than listening to Draco's constant complaining!

The Brat sat up and stretched, raising his hands high above his head, the blankets down around his waist as he casually exposed his perfectly formed upper body.  His skin was immaculate, not a mark or a scar anywhere on him.  

 _'Never done a days work in his life...'_   Alastor muttered under his breath as he tried not to stare. 

Draco stood up and stretched again, arching his back with a groan. 

‘What a dreadful nights sleep!’  He exclaimed dramatically. ‘I hope you slept well in the proper bed, Auror Moody!’  He added accusatively as though it was entirely Alastor's fault that he was in discomfort. 

‘Good morning.’ Alastor replied sarcastically.  ‘Yes I slept well, thank you.’ 

‘Well I didn’t!’ Draco snapped sauntering out from behind the sofa clad only in his underwear. 

His boxer shorts looked expensive, Alastor noticed.  Probably more expensive than his own entire wardrobe.

‘I hardly slept a wink!’  Draco continued sounding very grumpy and sorry for himself. 

‘You were sound asleep long before I was!’  Alastor informed him.  ‘Or at least you were snoring a good deal for someone who wasn’t actually asleep.’ 

Draco looked furious and turned to face him, eyes blazing.

‘I was not asleep!’  He hissed defensively.  ‘Besides, I don’t snore!’

‘Yes you do.’ Alastor informed him calmly as he fastened his shirt.  ‘But it’s quite alright.  I’d rather listen to you snoring than listen to you incessantly moaning.’ 

Draco looked positively outraged and he stamped his foot in anger like a 3 year old having a tantrum.  Alastor tried his best not to laugh. 

‘I'm going to get dressed.’  Draco announced crossly.

‘Good.’ Alastor replied.  ‘You’d get very cold walking 20 miles in your underwear, and then I’d have to listen to you whingeing about that too.’ 

Draco was livid.  Auror Moody had clearly not forgotten how Draco had behaved yesterday and seemed determined to match him like-for-like today.  Picking up his clothes Draco flounced off to the tiny makeshift ‘bathroom’ to freshen up. 

There were no proper washing facilities only a toilet and a hand basin so Draco had to rely on cleansing charms in order to get clean.  It was hardly the same as being able to bathe or have a proper shower, but it was better than nothing.  He pulled his clothes on, hating their plainness and lack of good design.  He glared at his own reflection in the mirror. 

He might not have his nice clothes, his possessions and his school yard henchmen around him, but there was no way he was going to let that beat him.  If that Auror though he could out-do Draco when it came to being annoying and sarcastic, he was very much mistaken!  Auror Moody had no idea who he was dealing with!  After all, they hadn’t called Draco ‘The Brat’ for nothing!

Draco returned to the main room, his head held high, nose in the air.  Alastor was sitting at the table with a cup of tea, eating some cereal from a chipped bowl. 

‘A nice cup of morning tea?’  Draco remarked slickly.  ‘I’ll make my own, shall I?’

‘Can you do that?’  Alastor asked a little sarcastically but was also trying to cover the fact he did feel a little bad.  It had been rather petty not to make any tea for Draco.

‘I don’t know.’  Said Draco in a proud and haughty voice.  ‘But I guess I’m going to have to find out aren’t I, as no one is going to help me.’  He had sense a slight prickling of conscience in Alastor's voice and was determined to make the most of it.  ‘Would you like another cup, Auror Moody?’  He asked in a sickly voice. 

Now Alastor did feel bad even though Draco was clearly being sarcastic.  Alastor realised by not helping Draco he was in danger of sinking to his level, and the mission would only be worse with two obnoxious brats instead of one.  One of them had to be the grown up here! 

'No thank you Draco.’  He replied holding his composure.  ‘Tea bags are in the jar and the water has just boiled...’  He offered.  ‘One teabag in the cup, add the water, then a splash of milk when you take the bag out.’ 

‘Wow!  Thank you so much Auror Moody!’  Draco replied in a vindictive tone.  ‘You’re so helpful!  You’d have made such a great teacher, wouldn’t you?   It’s such a shame you spent all of that year tied up in a box, isn’t it?’

‘Now just you wait a minute you little...’  Alastor barked, jumping up from his chair and striding over to Draco, standing so close to him that they were face to face, Alastor slightly the taller. 

‘What?’  Draco snapped.  ‘I only said it was a shame, that’s all.  Why are you getting so worked up?’  He hissed with a devious, satisfied look in his glittering grey eyes. 

They stood for a second glaring at each other, Alastor breathing sharply longing to do... something...  but he wasn’t sure what.  Hit him?  No.  Alastor would never hit a child.  Although Draco was 18 and therefore not really a child...  But Alastor still wouldn’t hit him.  He wasn’t quite sure that was what he wanted to do anyway.  He stepped away and sat down. 

Draco smiled to himself.  He hadn’t lost his touch.

They ate breakfast in silence, Alastor occasionally glancing at Draco, trying to work out his mood.  Each time they made eye contact Draco simply narrowed his eyes and glared crossly at his guardian.  Alastor sighed under his breath.  Challenging him would only lead to more argumentativeness.  It wasn't worth it.  It was strange though.  The atmosphere between them was worse than ever.  It was certainly a far cry from the moments of animated conversation the previous evening.

The mood did not improve as they packed their things and got ready to leave the hut.  Alastor wondered if perhaps the Brat had a hangover after the rather past-its-best wine they had shared the previous night?  Perhaps that was making his mood worse?  It was really no excuse though.  After all it was hardly Alastor's fault if the Brat couldn’t handle his drink as well as he liked to think he could!  Besides, mentioning the teaching year was below the belt. 

 

Alastor considered for a second taking a leaf out of Barty Crouch's book and transfiguring the Brat into a ferret just to shut him up.  It would have made the journey a lot more bearable.  A little ferret he could simply pop into his pocket and enjoy a quiet walk through the woods.   However, Alastor was still so ashamed of himself for having been held hostage by Barty Crouch that he didn't want to be reminded of that time.  Besides, transfiguration as a punishment was massively unethical.   This on its own might not have dissuaded him, but the fact that Crouch had done it dissuaded him completely. 

He glared at Draco as they left the hut and Draco slammed the door in a melodramatic fashion.  His eyes narrowed and his pointy little nose turned up, Alastor could see how a white ferret would have been a fairly easy transfiguration.  He suppressed a laugh. 

‘What?’  Draco snapped at him. 

‘Nothing.’  Alastor replied gruffly.  ‘Come on.  It’s this way.’  And he stomped off ahead of Draco into the forest.

Draco, it seemed, had started the day the way he intended to go on, by being as foul as possible and, although he wasn't talking, actively seeking arguments.  He was certainly scowling whenever Alastor looked at him. 

It wasn't until after lunch that Alastor became troubled by an odd sensation in his foot and he looked down to see that his rather worn leather boots had begun to split at the sole.  The snow was getting in, it was getting cold.  He stopped in his tracks and pulled out his wand. 

Draco noticed and stopped too, staring at him, hands on hips wondering what on earth he was doing as he began to cast some kind of charm over his foot. 

'What are you doing?'  The Brat exclaimed crossly as though Alastor's impromptu spell casting was making him last for a very important occasion. 

'Fixing my boot.'  Alastor snapped equally crossly as it was perfectly obvious what he was doing. 

Draco rolled his eyes sarcastically. 

'They look like they could have been worn by Merlin!'  Draco exclaimed.  'Maybe you should actually buy some new ones at some point?'  He hissed sarcastically. 

'I've had these for 23 years.'  Alastor replied proudly.  'Goblin made, military grade boots.  You don't need to replace these every couple of years!  Not like that flimsy fashion rubbish that you wear.' 

Draco's mouth dropped open and he looked horrified and disgusted. 

'23 years!'  He echoed sounding positively furious at the idea. 

'I was wearing these boots on life and death missions before you were so much as an evil glint in your father's eye.'  Alastor growled. 

'And you're still wearing them?'  Draco gasped, looking so shocked he might have needed to sit down. 

'Yes.'  Alastor said proudly. 

'That.  Is.  Disgusting.'  Draco said flatly and with vehement contempt. 

'And they were second hand when they came to me.'  Alastor said, purposely to wind Draco up further. 

'What!?'  Draco cried.  'You wore shoes that someone else had worn before?  Oh Gods!  That's awful!' 

'Don't see why.'  Alastor hissed crossly. 

'And as for changing mine every couple of years, you must be joking!'  Draco continued sounding deeply offended.  'I change my entire wardrobe every 6 months to keep up with fashion!  Well, almost all of it!  I keep a few vintage pieces and bespoke things, but I certainly don't keep tatty old crap that's falling to bits.  That's just revolting.' 

'Listen up you arrogant little rodent, not all of us buy clothes purely to look like we walk up and down a catwalk!  Some of us **work**.  Hard physical work, not just strutting about.'  Alastor replied. 

'If you work so damn hard you would think the ministry would pay you enough that you don't have to buy used clothes!  Please tell me you can afford to buy new underwear at least?' 

Alastor gripped his wand tightly, rage building inside him. 

'These boots were a very lucky find on a market in muggle London...'  He began. 

' **Muggle** London!'  Draco cried.  'You mean there's a very real chance that a **muggle** might have worn them?  Merlin's fucking balls!  That is the most disgusting thing I've ever heard!' 

Alastor cracked.  He grabbed Draco by the scruff of the neck and pushed him back against a tree his wand pointing at his face. 

'Maybe you should wake up and realise that there are far worse things to worry about than second hand shoes!  I'd have thought you would have seen worse things in your life, given what you've grown up around!  You'd better learn to keep your backward, prejudice opinions to yourself!' 

'Or what?'  Draco snapped.  'Or you'll transfigure me?  Just like in 4th year?'  He stared confrontationally at Alastor's wand, although his voice shook with emotion and a touch of fear. 

Alastor recovered himself and realised that pointing his wand at Draco in that way was rather uncalled for, and was certainly an overreaction on his part.  He stepped back. 

'That wasn't actually me, if you remember.'  He pointed out tetchily. 

'Not technically.'  Draco admitted, dusting himself down.  'But that asshole impersonated you for nearly a year, and in all that time, people who knew you, knew you well, didn't notice the difference.  So I figure he must have been doing a fairly accurate impression.'  Draco hissed.  'So therefore I figure you must be equally as unhinged and sadistic as he made you out to be, so transfiguration as a vindictive act can't be that far beyond you.' 

Alastor was stunned and silenced for a moment.  Draco had a rather unnerving point there. 

'I have never transfigured anyone.'  Alastor said flatly and decidedly. 

Draco simply scowled cynically and continued to walk, feeling shaken, but secretly pleased with his closing argument.

Finding the hut couldn't come soon enough as far as Alastor was concerned.  He had been genuinely unnerved by what Draco had said, because there was some truth in it.  Barty Crouch had been unhinged and sadistic, and no one had noticed.  That was a horrible thought.  Was that really how people saw **him** , how his friends saw him? 

Alastor had come to accept that he himself had some rather eccentric traits, and after years of service he could be a little coarse at times, but he would never have considered himself to be truly mad.  Not in an unkind way, not in a genuinely crazy way.  His nickname 'Mad-Eye'  referred to his magical eye being a little bit bizarre...  didn't it?  Not to him being crazy!  He was certainly a little rough around the edges and didn't waste time on airs and graces, but he liked to consider himself to be, essentially, a gentleman.  He deeply disliked the idea that he now had a reputation as someone who would transfigure a rather cowardly 14 year old child as some sort of punishment...  However unpleasant the child may have been.  He gritted his teeth, regretting drawing his wand at Draco.  He was not, **absolutely not** , going to let the Brat get the better of him!

It was a very long, very tense, very silent walk until the next shelter hut eventually loomed into view.       

However basic this hut might have been it was a welcome break from the toil of walking.  Alastor was determined not to show it but walking such a distance each day was taking its toll on him.  He ached everywhere, his leg was sore and his shoulder where he used his staff, was tense and knotted.  Add to this the ear ache of listening to the Brat and Alastor felt like he couldn’t actually name a part of himself that wasn’t hurting. 

He flung the door open and cast a lumos charm.  There was a centre ceiling lamp which he lit.  He stepped into the space and instantly flung down the heavy bag with a sigh.  He had had enough.    

Draco noticed. 

‘At least there are two beds.’  Draco observed in a voice which was almost pleasant.  

Alastor looked round at the room.  There were indeed two single beds, and a sofa and a small fireplace.  That was all he needed.  He sat heavily down onto the sofa and with a blast of light from his wand he lit a fire in the grate.   He hadn’t even shut the door.  Draco noticed and he closed it. 

Alastor sat in silence and he didn’t move.  He simply stared into the flames.  Draco didn’t know quite what to do. 

Without a word he put his own bag down on one of the little beds.  He took his time over this, hoping that in the time it took, his guardian would liven up again, or at least speak to him. 

He did not. 

‘It looks like a storm is starting.’  Draco observed tentatively as he drew the curtains.  

Alastor grunted in acknowledgement. 

Draco was trying his best.  He’d hoped for more response.  He was genuinely regretting how unpleasant he had been.  He tried again, wrapping up a clumsy apology in a tiny offer of kindness. 

‘Should I make some tea?’ 

Alastor paused.  He was avoiding interaction as he really didn’t have the energy for an argument. 

‘Can you?’  Alastor asked. 

‘I can remember from this morning.’  Draco replied quietly.  ‘Then I can see what food there is.’  He offered as though he suspected more than a cup of tea was required to counteract his earlier behaviour. 

‘Do that, yes.’  Alastor confirmed but didn’t thank him.  He didn’t deserve thanks yet. 

Draco nodded and made his way over to the little kitchen which was in an a joining room.  This hut was actually pretty luxurious, all things considered.  He boiled water and made the tea.  He sighed as he picked up the mug and carried it through to Alastor. 

‘Here...’  He said rather unceremoniously handing the mug to him.  Being nice wasn’t natural for Draco but it was hard being so hated by someone when there was no one else around. 

Alastor grunted his thanks.  

‘There’s food....’  Draco offered.   ‘Salad and meat and cheese and stuff...  I’ll bring it to you if you like?’ 

Alastor frowned at him as the penny dropped that this behaviour was something of an illiterate apology. 

‘Yes.  Thank you.’  He replied taking a sip of tea.  

Draco returned to the kitchen wondering just how long he was going to have to work, like a slave he felt, in order to get Alastor to be civil to him again!

He bought two plates of cold food. 

‘There’s no cooker.’  He said.  ‘Only cold food.  I’m sorry.’ 

The words _‘I'm sorry’_ rang with meaning and Alastor could feel that they related to more than the cold food. 

‘Thank you.’  Alastor replied, accepting the apology for the behaviour and the cold food, which wasn’t actually Draco’s fault anyway. 

They ate in relative silence although the atmosphere was a little less tense now that the words _‘I'm sorry’_   had been spoken.  Draco almost didn’t want to admit to himself that he missed the lively conversation of the previous evening. 

Draco was used to people disliking him, usually people his own age rather than adults.   He usually did a reasonable job of sucking up to the right adults when he needed to.  Since he’d been in ministry custody though, he hadn’t quite known how to behave.  Ministry guards, Aurors, even Cornelius Fudge himself, they weren’t like the people he was used to mixing with.  Plus they had all treated him with such suspicion because of his family, and as a result they had instantly earned his sneering contempt. 

This dishevelled, scruffy Auror had Draco’s contempt automatically because of his appearance, because of his irritating heroism and his even more irritating modesty about it.  Draco couldn’t understand it.  The likes of Gilderoy Lockheart were annoying certainly, with his gloating and bragging, but at least he had the decency to boast about his achievements!  Moody would just grumble something about duty and doing what was right; like all the brave stuff he had done was the most normal thing in the world.  This was a man who had medals, for goodness sake! And here he was wearing clothes that looked like they had been stolen from a muggle tramp.  It made Draco angry.  He didn’t understand it.

Yet it was strange, Draco actually enjoyed talking to him.  Half of his attempts to argue with him throughout the day had been simply to get his attention in the only way Draco could think of to get it.  He wanted to talk.  He wanted to talk about books, about travel.  He wondered if Auror Moody liked art?  He had surprised him with the books, what other surprises might there be?  He wanted to ask Auror Moody about his adventures and find out why he always played them down.  Draco was interested, he was genuinely interested and it was a strange feeling for him to be interested in someone other than himself.   Draco thought back over how he had behaved that day.  He had some making up to do!

Draco ate quickly and then waited for Alastor to finish.  When Alastor began to heave himself up off the sofa Draco jumped up at once. 

‘I’ll take that for you.’  He offered, reaching for the plate.  ‘You don’t have to get up.’ 

Alastor handed it to him. 

‘Thank you.’  He replied gruffly.  ‘You can take my plate for me, but I also need to visit the bathroom.  You can’t do that for me, can you?’ 

Draco tried not to be annoyed.   He smiled. 

‘I guess not.’  He replied.  ‘Can I make you a drink though?’  

‘You seem to become a much nicer person after dark.’  Alastor remarked dryly. 

Draco looked down at his feet a little ashamed. 

‘Maybe I’m naturally nocturnal?’  He said hopefully. 

Alastor laughed. 

‘A dark creature like you...’  He replied. 

Draco smiled sadly. 

‘You’re not so dark really.’  Alastor told him.  ‘Just a little bit spiky.  Tell you what, go and make some tea, or even cocoa if there is any and if you know how to make it.  I’ll build the fire up and we can relax a bit.  It’s been a long day.’ 

Draco nodded and slipped into the kitchen feeling like a naughty child who had just been told off by their favourite teacher. 

He found milk and cocoa powder which he mixed into it.  Then he wasn’t sure if he had done it right so he simply used a warming charm to heat it up.  When he tasted it, it was rather bitter.  He used his common sense and added sugar until it tasted about right. 

When he returned to the main room Alastor was busy tending the fire.  Draco set the cocoa down on the table. 

‘There was cocoa.’  He said happily.  ‘But it’s hot.  I’ve put it on the table to cool.’ 

Alastor smiled and nodded at him as he got up from the fireplace with great effort and returned to the sofa. 

Draco watched him as he lowered himself onto the old sofa and groaned, clutching at his shoulder for a second.  He was clearly in pain. 

‘Does your shoulder hurt?’  Draco asked softly. 

‘A little.  All that walking.’  Alastor replied a little defensively as he was unsure if he was talking to the nice version of Draco or if he was going to get a snarky comment about his state of health. 

Draco though for a moment and Alastor settled down and stared into the fire.  Draco tiptoed over to him nervously and rested his hand on his shoulder.  

Alastor's reactions were lightning fast.  In a split second he had grabbed Draco by his jacket, flung him down onto the floor and pounced on top of him, wand pointing at his face. 

Draco cried out in fear and shock, hands raised in surrender, grey eyes wide. 

‘I just thought I could help you.... rub your shoulder for you....’  He gasped breathlessly. 

Alastor, whose adrenaline was pumping and whose breathing was ragged, suddenly looked a little ashamed and embarrassed.  He had assumed, as he always did, that he was under attack. 

‘Oh...’  He said lowering his wand.   ‘I'm sorry...’ 

‘It's OK.’  Draco replied nervously.  ‘You’re very jumpy aren’t you?’ 

‘All these years as a Auror.’  Alastor replied, his body chemistry slowly returning to normal. 

‘I understand.’  Draco said.  ‘I'm the same after years around the death eaters.  I’m not going to attack you.   I promise.’ 

‘I know.  I’m sorry.’  Alastor said.  He didn’t know but he was sorry. 

‘You’re the greatest Auror who ever lived!  I’m not stupid enough to attack you even if I wanted to...  Which I don’t!’  Draco added quickly. 

‘I over reacted.’  Alastor said.  ‘I do that from time to time....  constant vigilance...’  He whispered jumpily.

‘It's really OK.’  Draco said calmly.  ‘But I’m going to have to ask you to get off me...  Either get off me or make an honest man of me!’  Draco grinned suggestively.  

Alastor was mortified and he leapt up almost as quickly as he had dived down.

‘Sorry...’  He muttered again as Draco stood up and brushed himself down.  

‘It's OK.’  Draco told him again.  ‘I almost enjoyed it.’  He added, getting a somewhat sadistic kick out of seeing Alastor blush. 

Alastor sat back down on the sofa and avoided eye contact. 

‘Now let’s see about that shoulder...’  Draco continued assertively.   ‘Where does it hurt?’  He rested his hands gently on Alastor's shoulders and this time Alastor let him with only a small flinch. 

‘It's just there... below the shoulder blade...’  Alastor said raspingly as Draco seemed to locate the trouble spot instantly. 

He pressed his thumbs into the muscles and began to work them firmly breaking up the knots. 

‘Oh...!  Mmmmmmmmm...’  Alastor moaned as Draco’s surprisingly skilled hands got to work. 

‘You’re very tense....’  Draco commented, applying more pressure.  ‘Tell me if I’m being too firm...’  He prompted. 

‘Not at all.’  Alastor replied.  ‘It's good...’ 

‘You like it hard and deep do you...?’  Draco grinned. 

‘Draco!’  Alastor exclaimed, rather shocked. 

Draco giggled.  

‘Don’t worry.’  He said.  ‘I Do!’ 

Alastor wasn’t sure, but he was a little afraid that the Brat might have been flirting with him!  It was very unnerving, if for no other reason than Alastor wasn’t sure what he would do about it if he was.  He said nothing. 

‘Seriously though...’  Draco said in a more sensible voice.  ‘This would be a whole lot easier if I could get to your skin a little better.’ 

Now Alastor was really taken a back.  Was Draco suggesting he take his clothes off? 

‘I know it’s cold....’  Draco continued ‘But if you just slipped your shirt off your shoulder a little...’  He suggested.

‘Are you sure...?’  Alastor asked.  ‘I mean... why are you doing this?’  He said straightforwardly. 

‘You clearly have fast reactions, which is good to know.’  Draco replied. ‘But I want to make sure you are fit enough to use them if you need to.’  Draco grinned.  ‘You’re no good to me if you are too achy for action.’ 

Alastor was 99% sure that by “ _action_ ” Draco meant fighting if it was required but the 1% doubt crept in because Draco had sounded very suggestive as he spoke.  Alastor told himself not to be so ridiculous.  The Brat wouldn't be flirting...  Not with him! 

Never the less, he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it down over his shoulder.   He was pleasantly surprised when Draco didn’t comment on, or even seem to notice his scars.   It was quite dark in the hut now so perhaps he simply hadn't seen them? 

Draco’s hands were warmer than Alastor expected.  He had the hands of a healer, he was both firm and gentle, and as he worked on Alastor's flesh he seemed to instinctively find the places which hurt the most and focused his attention there. 

‘You have very soft hands.’  Alastor mumbled. 

‘Never done a day's work in my life.’  Draco replied playfully.  ‘Plus I moisturise.’ 

Alastor laughed. 

‘Well you’re very good at this.’  He replied.  ‘How did you learn to do it?’ 

‘Instinct mostly.’  Draco answered.  It was true.  He’d picked up some tips from an ex boyfriend but mostly he just did whatever he thought would probably feel good to him. 

‘With a touch like this you’d make an excellent healer.’  Alastor said. 

‘A healer or a hooker.’  Draco replied with a grin which made Alastor blush again.   ‘But I don’t intend to be either.’  Draco confirmed.  ‘I don’t plan to work at all if I can help it.’ 

‘At least your honest.’  Alastor replied with a smile. 

Suddenly Draco hit a particularly tense patch and Alastor's words dissolved into a moan of pleasure which bordered on sounding rather sexual.  He instantly quieted himself. 

‘I don’t want to do too much....’  Draco said easing off a little.  ‘Otherwise it might actually feel worse tomorrow.  I could always do you again tomorrow night if you like?’  Draco offered again with a suggestive tone in his voice. 

‘The weathers going to be bad tomorrow.’  Alastor said, trying to ignore Draco’s flirting.  ‘You might be too tired after the walk.’ 

‘Well, the offer's there.’  Draco replied sweetly as he gently finished up.  

Alastor fastened his shirt again. 

‘Thank you Draco.’  He said earnestly.  ‘That feels a lot better.  But you're being worryingly nice.  Are you going to make up for it by being extra horrible tomorrow?’ 

‘I’ll try not to be.’  Draco said honestly.  ‘I'm just not very good at being nice.’ 

‘You’ve been very nice tonight.’  Alastor said. 

‘I guess I’m one extremely or the other.’  Draco said.  ‘I’ll try though.   I promise.  I’m not good at being with people and I’m definitely not good at walking through forests and sleeping in sheds.’  

‘This isn’t easy for you, is it?’  Alastor observed kindly. 

Draco shook his head. 

None of it was easy.   Leaving his home, however many bad memories it housed , had been hard.  Leaving Hogwarts had been even harder as, Basilisks, dementors and dragons aside, it was the safest place Draco had ever known. 

Walking such long distances every day was hard too.  Although Draco was quite physically active on his own terms, being made to do all this walking in the cold was a challenge for him. 

Spending a lot of time with anyone was hard for Draco, as he tended to avoid people when he could, preferring his own company to the company of others.  Plus it was particularly odd being in the company of the man who had arrested his parents.  The man who had humiliated him by transfiguring him into a ferret a few years ago.... only it wasn’t really him that did that, was it...?  But it was still weird.  It was stranger and more uncomfortable still as Draco discovered, miniscule moment by moment, that he actually enjoyed the company of this man.  It only got worse now that he had discovered that being somewhat flirtatious was wickedly enjoyable...  All in all Draco was entirely out of his comfort zone.

'I'm going to go and get ready for bed.'  Draco said assertively, not wanting to discuss it any further. 

Alastor nodded and Draco disappeared into the bathroom. 

In the bathroom Draco analysed the evening.  He so badly wanted to be noticed, wanted attention, and he knew of only two ways to get it.  **Argue** or **flirt**.  Arguing was his default behaviour, but strangely, flirting seemed to be more fun.  It also seemed very effective at catching the Auror off guard and making his squirm.  Plus it gave Draco a thrill.  A deep and secret thrill which had him wondering if Auror Moody would ever flirt back, and just what he would do if he ever did?  Draco stared at his reflection in the mirror and frowned in confusion at the butterflies he could feel in his stomach.  What was this bizarre fascination that was sweeping over him...? 

Alastor placed the guard in front of the fire and, picking up the cocoa, headed over to the two little beds.  He sat down began to remove some of his clothes.  However, it was turning into a very cold night and he had no intention of removing much at all. 

Draco returned from the bathroom.  He had stripped down to his underwear.  He walked like a model, looking perfect and poised but at the same time as though it were all completely natural to him.  Alastor tried not to stare only this time he couldn't help but notice Draco's glorious, well toned thighs.  ' _Probably plays a lot of Quidditch_...'  Alastor thought and made himself look away at once. 

However, Draco was self aware enough to have felt Alastor's gaze linger just the moment longer than it should have done.  He sashayed over to the bed with a saucy smile. 

'All ready!'  He smiled.  'I do wish there was a shower though...'  He said as he luxuriously ran his fingers through his hair...  'Cleansing charms just don't feel as good, do they?' 

'It's a cold night, Draco.'  Alastor said gruffly, trying not to notice anything else.  'You'll catch your death like that.  Good thing I cast a warming charm over your bed for you.' 

'Did you?'  Draco chirped, forgetting he was trying to be seductive, and he dived under the covers right away. 

The bed was lovely and warm, cosy and deliciously soft. 

'Mmmmmmmm.....'  Draco grinned.  'That's amazing!  What charm is that?' 

'It's an Auror spell we learnt in basic training.  Use it all the time out in the field.'  Alastor replied. 

'It's great!  Thank you.'  Draco smiled at him, his face peeking out from the blankets which he had pulled up tightly around his head. 

He looked very cute like this, not like a brat at all, Alastor thought.  He did however look rather like an adorable little ferret in a fluffy nest, but for the sake of diplomacy and good relations, Alastor decided not to mention that.  They both drank their cocoa and settled down to go to sleep.

                     *                          *                        *                            *                        *                       *

Throughout the night the weather got progressively worse and worse.  What started as heavy snow fall developed into howling winds and icy hail which rattled the windows of the little hut, causing both Alastor and Draco to wake several times.  Draco hid himself further and further beneath the blankets as the night went on.  Alastor listened to the weather for some time, hoping to the Gods that the worst of it would be over by the morning. 

His prayers were not answered and when morning came the weather was worse than ever.  The wind continued to wail and the snow was falling heavily and building up in banks and drifts.  Alastor considered not travelling that day and waiting to see if the weather improved tomorrow, but he was concerned about the dangers of staying too long in one place.  Keeping moving was the best way to avoid being caught by the death eaters, and that was a far greater risk than bad weather. 

He reminded Draco to wrap up as warmly as he could, although the bad weather had not been unnoticed by Draco himself.  Sticking to his promise, he was trying not to be horrible this morning, but the thought of walking through the storm clearly bothered him a great deal.  He was subdued and quiet in the morning, with none of the playfulness of the previous evening.

As they stepped out into the foul weather, Alastor reminded Draco to stay close to him as it would be all too easy to lose one another in the blizzard.  Visibility was not good and the wind and swirling snowflakes would soon become disorientating.  For a split second he thought that Draco was going to reach for his hand, however at the last moment he seemed to think better of it and they walked out into the storm side by side for what was set to be the most difficult day of the journey so far.     


	5. Serious Misconduct

 

The blizzard was relentless.  For nearly eight hours they had been battered by snow, sleet and hail, icy winds and freezing temperatures.  With 20 miles to cover , there had been no time to stop and rest, in Alastor's mind, every stop simply meant more time they had to spent in these hideous conditions.  However humble this evenings shelter might be, it would seem like luxury after the most gruelling day yet. 

However, today had been gruelling purely because of the weather, not because of The Brat.  The Brat had complained initially when he saw the snow, and had grumbled a little as it seemed to get worse and worse, but for the last 3 hours he had said nothing.  Not a word, not a sigh. Nothing.  Alastor had regularly checked to be sure he was still there.  As the conditions worsened, they really had to stay close to one another.  It would be all too easy to lose someone in a storm like this. 

Alastor glanced at Draco and prayed the shelter was near.  The poor kid didn't look like he could make it much further.  Alastor paused and waited for Draco to catch him up.  At close range, he noticed there were snowflakes frozen into Draco's long eyelashes, his steel grey eyes were reddened and bloodshot from the biting cold.  His steps were unsteady and stumbling.  He looked very weak. 

Without at word, Alastor slipped his hand around Draco's waist, giving him something to lean on, for some support.  Draco, without speaking, threw his arm around Alastor's shoulder.  Alastor felt a strange pang of emotion as he noticed a single tear escape from Draco's eye and roll down his face, only to freeze on his ice white cheek.

Together they stumbled on. 

Draco hated the cold.  More than anything else, he hated being cold.  He hated having to wear warm clothes, he hated wearing winter coats.  He avoided going outside if the weather was even remotely bad.  Today was everything he hated the most and there was absolutely no escape from it.  His clothes, the alleged waterproofs he had reluctantly bought with him had failed spectacularly to live up to their title.  He was soaked, right through to the skin.  He could not name one part of his body that didn't hurt with the cold.  It had gone on so long he was almost used to it, until each icy gust would lash him, feeling like every inch of his body was being thrashed with icy fire.  He could have sobbed, only his tears would have frozen and it wouldn't have made the situation any better anyway.  Had he been alone, Draco was sure he would have given up by now.  He would have simply curled up on the ground, let the snow cover him and waited to die...  He would have done, were it not for the thought that the Death Eaters might find him.  He might have been in agony, but he knew all too well the Cruciatus curse was a whole different kind of pain altogether.  That thought in his mind, he tried his best to just keep walking...  Just... keep... walking...

It was hard to know who felt the greater relief when a tiny log hut came into view in the distance.  Alastor saw it first, his magical eye tuned in to spot such things. 

'Nearly there, son.'  He managed gruffly. 

Draco didn't respond.  He couldn't. 

When at last they reached the rickety structure, it became clear that this cabin was the most basic one they had seen yet. 

'Typical!'  Moody muttered as, without letting go of Draco, he flung the door open and dragged the boy inside. 

Draco was still standing, but he was almost lifeless in Alastor's arms. 

Alastor tentatively let go of him and was relieved when Draco didn't keel over the second he did so.  He quickly took steps to get the place a little warmer. 

Using a spell, he lit a fire in the grate, encouraging it to roar as much as possible.  The fire light illuminated the space. 

The cabin consisted of one simple room.  A dilapidated sofa with several blankets and throws piled on it stood near a fireplace.  There was a small lantern by the door.  Alastor lit it, for all the good it did. It was not much brighter inside the cabin than it had been with only the fire for light. 

There were two small wooden chairs in the corner of the room.  Hastily, Alastor brought them near to the fireside.  He then promptly began to remove his wet clothes.  The extreme weather had been too much even for his waterproof coat.  He took it off and hung it up to dry on one of the chairs.  His jacket followed.  Then his shirt.  Quite unabashed, he removed his soaking wet trousers too.  This was no time for modesty.  Getting out of these freezing wet clothes was a matter of life and death.  A drying charm could be applied if necessary, if the clothes weren't dry by the morning.  But for now, they just needed the cold wet garments off their skin and to be able to get warm naturally.    

Clad in his underwear, Alastor quickly laid out some of the blankets and cushions in front of the fire, creating a sort of bed on the floor.  It was sensible really as there was nowhere else to sleep other than the mouldy old sofa which actually looked like it would be less comfortable than the floorboards.

He looked round at Draco.  He wondered if Draco was staring at him in a state of undress.  Had he noticed his false leg which attached at the knee?  Some people were a little freaked out when they saw it.  He wondered if Draco would be.  But Draco didn't seem to be looking at him at all.  Draco stood, stock still as if he were frozen to the spot, staring forward numbly as though he were unable to move. 

'Draco!'  Alastor barked and received no response.  'Draco!'  He tried again.  'Draco, son, come on.  You need to get out of those wet things or you'll catch your death of cold.  Draco!  Can you hear me?' 

At last Draco responded with a tiny nod of his head and with what seemed like a great effort, he raised his hands and unfastened his dripping wet coat.  His fingers were so cold it was quite hard to manage but once he slipped it off his shoulders Alastor was there to take it from him and hang it on the other chair. 

He stepped close to Draco, who was trembling visibly. 

'Here...'  Alastor offered, helping Draco to remove his sweater. 

The sleeveless t-shirt beneath it was also soaked through and Draco managed on his own to pull this over his head and hand it to Alastor.  Whilst Alastor hung it up, Draco removed his trousers and stood, as Alastor did, in just his underwear. 

No wonder the poor thing was so cold!  Alastor thought to himself.  There was nothing of him!  Hardly any meat on his bones.  He probably felt cold even in summer! 

Alastor shivered.  This was no time for embarrassment or prudishness.  **All** of their wet clothes needed removing if they were to avoid catching a serious chill.  He stepped back towards the fire and without warning he removed his underwear and hung it on the chair to dry.  He then knelt down on the floor and pulled a blanket about himself.  He looked at Draco who was standing still, looking shocked, not moving. 

'Come on, boy!'  Moody instructed.  'Get the rest of those wet clothes off and come and get warm!' 

Draco looked horrified. 

'No one's looking at you, son.  This is serious, there's no time for shyness!'  Moody said firmly.  'It's just us here and you've seen me now.  I'm fairly sure I've more to be self conscious about than you have!  Now get your pants off and get over here!' 

He hadn't meant his last sentence to sound quite as it did, but it seemed to get the desired response from Draco.  Nervously, he removed the last of his clothes and, completely naked, he joined Alastor on the rug by the fire.  Slowly, he sat down beside him, shaking like a leaf. 

Alastor quickly extended his arm and wrapped the blanket around Draco's trembling body. 

'There now...'  He soothed.  'You're going to be alright.  We'll get you warmed up...' 

Draco's skin was like ice!  Alastor panicked for a moment.  Draco seemed to have almost no body heat at all. 

'Come here...'  Alastor whispered and he pulled Draco close and held him against his own naked body.  'Let's get you warm.'  He said kindly and straightforwardly.

Without further ado, Alastor began to rapidly stroke up and down Draco's frozen back and arms, rubbing him firmly to awaken his circulation and get him warm.  Draco's breathing was intense and sharp, and he pressed his thin cold body tightly against Alastor's much warmer, softer one. 

Alastor didn't think anything of it when he felt Draco's icy hand slip around his back and grip his shoulder, holding onto him tightly.  He thought nothing of it when Draco buried his face into the crook of his neck and rested it there.  He simply held Draco more tightly and  continued to stroke him gradually feeling some traces of human warmth returning. 

Draco sighed deeply, and Alastor could feel his breath against his skin.  It was oddly intimate which this whole situation was never meant to be.  Just like the odd moments of the last few evenings had never been intended to be.  Alastor tried to ignore a long forgotten stirring he felt awakening within him.  It became harder to ignore when he felt Draco's soft sensuous lips touch his shoulder, surely by accident, as Draco pressed his face against him? 

He hugged Draco tightly, confident that Draco didn't mean anything by these things and they must have happened quite by accident as he tried to warm himself with Alastor's body heat. 

However, when Draco's free hand reached up and looped around Alastor's neck, suddenly the embrace felt entirely different!  And there were those lips again!  Alastor vividly felt Draco's mouth against the crook of his neck.  It simply pressed against him at first, it could have been another accident?  Then he felt Draco's lips a second time, and this time they were slightly parted.  They pressed against the delicate skin of his neck for a second and then pulled into a pout, sucking ever so gently at his flesh before pulling away.

Alastor was stunned.  Had he imagined that?  No.  It happened again.  Draco kissed his neck, sucking gently and this time, letting the tip of his tongue trip over Alastor's flesh. 

'Wooah, there!'  Alastor exclaimed, although he didn't let go of Draco, not even for a second.  He pulled his head back to look at Draco properly and try to work out just what he was playing at. 

Draco, his grey eyes like the twilight sky, started up into Alastor's face before he timidly reached up and touched their lips together for a brief, fleeting second.  Alastor felt his stomach flip with nerves and desire.  Draco looked at him again, searchingly, questioningly and... dare Alastor think it... adoringly? 

'Draco...?'  Alastor whispered, his head spinning with unfamiliar emotions.  'Draco, son... what are you doing?' 

Draco's sad eyes gazed up at him longingly and he sighed a deep, sad sigh. 

'Please, Alastor...'  He whispered softly.  'Please, keep me warm.' 

And with that, the troubled young boy found a voice with which to express his desires.  Although, as he was not confident with the words, he returned to actions to complete his request. 

His lips reached Alastor's again and this time the kiss was tentatively returned.  Alastor parted his own lips slightly and when Draco's met his, he brushed his tongue over Draco's mouth, an ecstatic sigh of pleasure escaping him as Draco sucked gently at his bottom lip with a tiny, needy whimper.

Alastor's hand cupped Draco's face gently.  Gods!  He was still so cold!  His face was so soft, smooth and perfect, just like his hands were.  So delicate, so fragile.  Unmarked.  Untouched. 

Draco parted his lips and Alastor slipped his tongue into his mouth.  Draco welcomed it and sucked gently, shifting his weight so that he pressed their bodies more tightly together, wanting more than anything, contact between their groins. 

Alastor's head swum with confusion.  Just what did The Brat think he was playing at?  Was this some kind of espionage?  Was he working for the Dark Lord and had been sent to trick Aurors by seduction?  Was that why, initially he had requested someone younger, as he knew what his mission entailed?  Alastor's paranoia was doing its best to ruin things, even now.  Draco kissed him so passionately, thrust his nubile young body against him so willingly!  And if Alastor wasn't mistaken, he could feel Draco's cock, stiff against his hip beneath the blankets.  Draco moaned pretty little whimpers of desire.  If Draco was faking this, he was doing a pretty good job of it! 

Alastor's hand ran slowly down the side of Draco's ribs and came to rest on his angular hip bone, in a caress which had nothing to do with trying to get him warm.  Draco felt unreal, he felt almost too perfect.  His delicate bones, his tight, defined muscles, his immaculate skin, he was unbelievable!  Why on earth would Draco Malfoy want to do this?  Those kisses!  They were so good!  Alastor felt his cock beginning to stiffen. 

Even if this was espionage, even if Draco was some kind of honey trap, he was never going to find out if he turned him away, was he?  It was a flimsy enough excuse to make love to someone, simply to find out if they were trying to trick you, but Alastor felt he needed some kind of excuse in the back of his mind.  Of course, he would be no less vigilante afterwards than he had been before.  If Draco was trying to trick him, perhaps this way he would catch him out? 

He took hold of Draco firmly and laid him down in his arms.  Alastor supported himself on one elbow and Draco, who was being spooned by him, twisted his torso round so that he could still reach his lips.  Alastor pressed his mouth down over Draco's, surprised he remembered so much about kissing after so long, but it seemed it was pretty much instinctual.  Over and over again he plunged his tongue into Draco's mouth, licking his sweet lips, sucking gently on his tongue. 

Draco caressed Alastor's lined, scarred face as they kissed, stroking him with adoring reverence.  He was unphased by Alastor's scars, by his age or by any of his injuries.  Even his false leg, Draco had noticed, had not prevented Alastor from being able to kneel down before the fire without difficulty.  He may not have been comfortable but seemed to have a full range of movement. 

Alastor's gnarled hands tripped lightly down Draco's perfect torso, and his bulky, fleshy body pushed against Draco's firm one.  Draco didn't mind a bit.  In fact, Alastor's imperfections made him more interesting to Draco.  His roughness of character, his rugged, weathered looks which some people might even have described as ugly, were actually one of the things that attracted Draco to him the most.  Draco had always been slightly disappointed that only very attractive men ever asked him out.  What was the point, he had wondered, of being so perfect and pretty if no one was ever going to come along and make him feel a little dirty for a while...? 

Alastor was perfect in that respect!  Older than him, to the point where their coupling would seem ever so slightly obscene.  Draco had never really wanted to date men who were much younger than his father.  Perhaps to anger and displease Lucius or perhaps simply to replace him, older men became Draco's obsession.  There was something wonderful about the fact that Alastor was an Auror too.  One of the good guys.  He was a pure-blood though and Draco wondered if it might be slightly better if he was a half-blood or even a muggle-born, but it didn't matter.  He was sophisticated and cultured enough that they could talk to one another easily, but he was rough and uncouth enough that Draco felt a kinky thrill at the idea of being fucked by him.  He certainly hadn't begun this journey feeling like this, but now the emotions had hit him, they hit him like a tsunami!

Draco's cock was rock solid and positively aching for attention and he felt a deep, giddy thrill as he noticed for the first time, something hard pressed up against his back.  Alastor's cock was erect and wanting.  Of course it was.  Draco would have defied any man to have kissed him for that length of time and not get an erection.  Draco knew he was a sensational kisser!  What he hadn't expected was that Alastor was just as skilled as he was.

Draco shifted slightly and he let one of his hands reach for Alastor's crotch.  He smiled against his lips as his soft, delicate fingers took hold of Alastor's thick, heavy package and he felt the head already wet with pre-come.    
Draco tugged him gently and Alastor felt his desires go through the roof.  Of all the Aurors, he really should be the last one to be behaving this way with a charge in his care, particularly considering who that charge was, but somehow that made it all the more appealing.  Draco Malfoy, son of the corrupt millionaire, Lucius Malfoy, whom Alastor had arrested!  It was so wrong, but at the same time... so hot! 

Draco Malfoy seemed to want nothing more in the world than to get naked and toy with Alastor's hard dick.  It was certainly an interesting development and was proving a very effective way to get warm.  The temperature in the cabin certainly seemed to be rising dramatically. 

Alastor reached his arm around Draco to touch his cock.  Smooth and well groomed, Draco's cock was as neat and tidy as the rest of him.  Like the rest of him it was long, thin and elegant and Alastor slowly caressed the length up and down, up and down, working the full length of Draco's shaft. 

'Mmmmmm....'  Draco moaned in a rasping voice, his body trembling with lust as Alastor's rough, calloused hand took hold of his erection and toyed with him. 

It wasn't long before Alastor decided to explore a little further and he cupped Draco's balls, squeezing them gently and giving them a playful tug which made Draco cry out loud with excitement. 

They lay together under the blankets, the heat from the fire adding to their soaring body heat as they toyed with each other's cocks, still kissing intermittently: Alastor wondering why this was even happening, Draco utterly convinced of its rightness. 

The lighting was low, they were locked away together in a secret shelter.  The blankets around them, it was as if their actions were entirely secret.  _Why not enjoy it at least?_ Alastor persuaded himself at last.  Perhaps he had no choice but to enjoy it anyway.  He couldn't even remember the last time his cock had been so hard.  As Draco tugged it and thrust his firm, peachy buttocks back against it, Alastor felt like he might explode at any moment and cover the Brat all to soon! 

Would it be too soon though?  How far did boys like Draco go in this type of situation?  Would he just fool around or would he go further?  Did supposedly well-bred boys like Draco Malfoy go all the way?  Alastor wasn't sure, but the way Draco was thrusting his ass back against him... he certainly seemed to be trying to hint at something.

Intrigued and curious, Alastor moved his hand back and caressed Draco's perfect round ass cheeks.  Gods, they felt good!  Smooth and delicious, and with a nice pleasing plumpness in contrast to the rest of him which was rather skinny.  Draco had the perfect little bubble-butt, fleshy and firm with a nice deep crevice between his two cheeks.  Lust for physical attributes wasn't something Alastor was prone to giving into.  Today, however, he was prepared to make an exception.  He wanted very much to impale that pert fleshy ass on his cock and pound it until Draco's cheeks glowed pink.  Was Draco going to be up for that?  A little bit of mutual masturbation was one thing, but a deep anal fucking was quite another.  Draco was only 18 years old, it would be wrong to push him into anything.  However, far from being coerced, Draco seemed to be leading the way.  Holding Alastor's cock firmly, he pushed it up against his asshole, between his cheeks. 

It wasn't something that could be misunderstood, really.  It was direct and to the point.  Draco wanted to be fucked. 

Alastor slipped his arm around Draco, holding him tightly and he pressed his cock up against his hole.  He should check if Draco wanted to do this.  After all, this **was** serious misconduct on his part.  The very least he should do was secure explicit verbal consent, surely?  But suddenly it was too late! 

Draco had pushed back hard onto him.  The head of his cock seeping pre-come, it was lubricated just enough to breach Draco's tight ring of muscle and pop inside him.  Draco gave a satisfied yelp as his hungry hole got what it was craving. 

Alastor gasped with shock.  There was no way he was going to fuck the boy dry!  He whispered a lubrication spell, a little known one which included a stamina charm.  Alastor didn't get to fuck very often, his life just hadn't played out that way, and so now it was on offer he was certainly going to make the most of it.  Whatever Draco's motivation might be, if he wanted fucking, that was exactly what he was going to get. 

Draco's ass nice and wet, Alastor was able to slide his full length inside him and Draco gritted his teeth and breathed sharply as he took it all in.  Alastor's cock was rather like the rest of him, thick, chunky and broad.  Draco gasped with delight as he got used to the delicious full feeling.  There really was nothing he liked better in the world than having his ass filled with a nice fat cock! 

Alastor gripped him firmly and began to slowly rock his hips back and forth, plunging his shaft in, out, in, out...  Draco moaned needily. 

'Mmmmmm....  Yeah....  That's so good!'  He whispered in his softest voice. 

Alastor softly kissed the side of his neck in response, moving his lips upwards and nibbling at Draco's ear lobe which sent a shiver right through the boy and his eyelids fluttered. 

Thrust after thrust after thrust, Draco pushed back against Alastor, welcoming his thick cock into his hot, tight passage.  Alastor wondered if Draco had ever done this before, he was only 18 after all.  He had seemed to know what to expect when Alastor drove into him, but he was very tight and toned down there!  It could have been his first time...  either that or he took healing potions after sex, or had a muscle toning routine...  Either option was possible and seemed like the sort of high maintenance, spoilt brat type of thing Draco Malfoy would do.

Whatever he did or didn't do, Draco's ass felt amazing.  The tight squeeze to get past his ring, the friction against his cock as he ploughed it deep inside.  Alastor shifted his weight slightly, pushing Draco from his side, onto his front so that he could position himself on top of him and drill him directly from behind.  He was sure that from this position he could just get deep enough and be at the right angle to hit Draco's prostate. 

He was not mistaken and Draco positively howled as the head of Alastor's cock rammed hard into the little bundle of nerves in his passage.  As Alastor's body weight pinned him down onto the floor, Draco's own cock was now being rubbed aggressively against the blankets beneath him with each powerful thrust from Alastor on top of him.  The double stimulation drove him crazy.   

'Aaaaaaahhhh....'  Draco wailed as Alastor pounded him hard, shoving him back and forth on the floor. 

Alastor grunted aggressively.  Maybe a good hard buggering was what was needed to keep the Brat in his place?  Maybe he would behave a little better after this?  Maybe Alastor should have fucked him the very first night...  Or spanked him, perhaps...  Alastor's lust increased at the idea and he drilled deep into the screaming boy. 

Draco really was screaming now.  It was slightly ambiguous as to whether he was screaming with pleasure or pain, or perhaps a little of both?  Alastor concluded it was probably pleasure as Draco was still rutting his greedy ass back up against him.  His screams must be pleasure.  Mostly. 

'Oh, Gods!'  Draco cried, almost tearfully.  'Gods!  I'm going to come!' 

Alastor had never had a lover who could come this way before.  He hadn't had many lovers in his life and he had certainly never had one, male or female, who could climax from penetration alone.  It was a very satisfying and arousing idea. 

Draco hadn't been exaggerating, he really was about to come.  Alastor felt Draco's orgasm rip through him, felt Draco's passage tense, squeeze and twitch as his cock, trapped beneath his stomach and the  blankets, suddenly erupted with fluid.  Draco screamed again in ecstasy. 

Satisfied with his task, Alastor flopped down beside Draco again in a spooning position.  It was infinitely more comfortable for him, all things considered.  Plus it meant he could get a really good tight grip on the trembling boy again.  He slipped his hand around Draco again, under his neck, in the space just above his shoulder.  He held Draco tightly, his hand on Draco's chest.  With his other hand Alastor took a rough hold of Draco's hip and began to slam into him hard with a deep guttural growl. 

Draco yelped in shock.  He may have come quickly but it seemed Alastor wasn't done yet, not by a long way!  Trembling, Draco tried to brace himself to take more of a pounding. 

Alastor's hold on him got tighter and tighter until he moved his hand and held Draco almost in a headlock as he fucked him, hard, fast and deep.  Why hadn't he thought of this days ago?  It might be serious misconduct, but Merlin's balls, it was so worth it!  He was near retirement anyway, wasn't he?  Nothing to stop him drilling Draco's delicious little ass every night for the rest of the journey.  Even if he was dismissed at the end of the mission, it would all be worth it.  Just as long as the Brat could still walk in the morning...  Although there would be something pretty kinky about it if he found walking a little difficult as a result. 

Alastor was at last getting close.  He released Draco from the tight gasp he held him in and pushed him forward so that he was bent almost double at the waist.  Still laying on his side, this made his asshole all the more exposed and more open to being stuffed deep by Alastor's cock.  He got amazing penetration this way. 

Draco's head no longer on the cushion, he felt he could be at risk from minor concussion as he tried to avoid hitting his head against the floor.  Alastor didn't seem to notice.  He simply took hold of Draco's hips and held him as still as he could with his strong arms.  Draco held in place, it was easier to get the full effect of the friction when fucking his ass.  Alastor began to work up the rhythm he needed to climax. 

Draco moaned with a slightly troubled whimper.  The lubrication charm didn't seem to have lasted the duration and now the friction in his butthole was almost too much to bare as Alastor's fat cock rubbed inside his passage with very little wetness to make the sliding in and out easier.  However, Draco didn't have to worry about that for too long because after several minutes of near-dry fucking Alastor could take no more. 

With an aggressive growl he gripped Draco's hips so tightly that he caused bruises.  He felt his thick meaty cock begin to pulse as he ejaculated.  Alastor thrust in deep, as deep as he could, and he shot his load.  He owned the Brat now, and one way he was going to mark his territory was by making sure Draco got a full load of his come as far up inside him as possible.  His dick throbbed intensely as he shot ribbons of come into the boy and he made sure he had drained every last drop before he slowly pulled his cock out, inch by inch before finally popping the head out of Draco's quivering ring. 

Sweaty and panting they lay together, all thoughts of how cold they had been during the day seeming like very distant memories as they both felt their temperatures soaring.  Draco went to push the blankets off himself to cool down a little. 

'Don't!'  Alastor commanded, although somewhat softly. 

He reached out and took Draco back into his arms so that he spooned him again, holding him gently by firmly under the blankets.  Feeling a little twinge of guilt now about some of the dirtier thoughts he had had whilst fucking Draco, he kissed the boy almost apologetically on the cheek.

'You have to stay warm after getting so cold today.'  He explained.  'If you go from cold to hot to cold again, you're sure to get a chill...' 

Alastor was surprised when Draco didn't argue with him, he didn't insist that he let go of him now that the sex was over.  He was surprised when Draco simply snuggled back against him with what could only be described as an incredibly satisfied smile on his face. 

'It was a good way to get warmed up though, wasn't it?'  Draco whispered. 

It was strange, but this shocked Alastor more than anything else so far.  This didn't sound like espionage, not in the slightest.  This sounded more than anything, like Draco had done what he had done purely because he wanted to, and thought it would be a fun way to solve the problem of needing to warm up. 

'Yes, perhaps it was.'  Alastor muttered. 

'Good thing I thought of it, really.'  Draco grinned.

'Draco...?'  Alastor began, concerns surfacing.  'Draco, was that... your first time?'  He hoped to the gods it wasn't.  If it was, he could certainly have stood to have been a little more gentle. 

Draco gave a short laugh. 

'No!'  He exclaimed.  'No it wasn't.  As if someone as hot as me would still be a virgin!' 

OK, perhaps fucking him hard wasn't enough to bring him down a peg or two, Alastor sighed. 

'Not the **first**...'  Draco continued, a little more softly.  'But perhaps, the **best**.'   

He smiled, and with that he closed his eyes, ready to drift into a satisfied sleep.                   


	6. The Morning After The Night Before

 

Alastor awoke before Draco, Draco being more used to luxurious lie-ins and Draco being arguably more affected by the cold weather the day before.  It wasn't a bad idea to let him sleep, Alastor decided.  He was really very pleasant company when he was asleep.  He wasn't complaining about anything and he wasn't scowling, so you could see just how beautiful he really was.  Mind you, Alastor thought to himself, Draco hadn't been complaining last night, and he had been rather pleasant company then, too. 

Alastor realised they hadn't had any food when they arrived at this shelter.  The need to get warm had been paramount, and then...  Well...  Other desires had taken over.  Alastor still couldn't quite believe it had happened at all, not least that The Brat had actually been the one to instigate it.  It must be espionage, surely? 

He kept his suspicions to himself and carefully slipped out from under the blankets.  His back was less than happy after a night of sleeping on the floor and he wondered if, later, he could convince Draco to give him another massage...  Just to see how keen Draco was to win him over!  He reached for his clothes.  The fire had dried everything out nicely and Alastor pulled on his trousers and shirt and made his way to a rickety cupboard at the far end of the room.  As he suspected, all of the food supplies were inside, including a small, self-boiling kettle for making tea. 

It wasn't the best cup of tea in the world, certainly, but it was very welcome under the circumstances.  Alastor made a cup for himself, and a cup for Draco.  It had been his intention from the outset to do as little as possible to pander to Draco's spoilt behaviour and to avoid doing anything for him...  However, rough around the edges as he was, Alastor was a gentleman.  And you do not have sex with someone and not make them tea in the morning, you simply do not! 

Draco was just beginning to stir as he approached with the mug. 

'I made you some tea.'  Alastor said his gruff voice tinged with a hint of affection. 

Draco sat up groggily, looked at Alastor and smiled. 

'Did you?'  He replied with a playful, delightful grin.  'I'm surprised you didn't insist I make it myself.' 

Alastor sat on the sofa and handed Draco the mug. 

'Exceptional circumstances.'  He grunted. 

Draco laughed and his eyes sparkled. 

'I wonder what I'd have to do to get you to cook me dinner!'  He retorted before taking a long sip of tea.

The Brat seemed to be in positively amiable spirits this morning.  Alastor sat on the sofa drinking his tea, Draco leant against his leg as he remained on the floor, wrapped in the blankets.  It was almost affectionate. 

'How are you feeling this morning?'  Alastor asked at last. 

'In what respect?'  Draco replied, with a tiny coy smile. 

'After the journey yesterday.'  Alastor said straightforwardly .  'You don't feel that you have a chill, do you?  We have a lot of ground to cover today.' 

Draco stiffened and sat up a little straighter, moving away from Alastor at once.  He had hoped for something a little more personal behind that question.  

'I'm just fine.'  He retorted coldly and they finished their tea in silence. 

Alastor wasn't sure why, but Draco's good mood had well and truly evaporated by the time they were ready to leave the shelter.  Draco's face was as sullen as ever and any attempts at conversation had been met with short, sharp replies and piercing glares. 

In contrast to Draco's mood, the weather was a vast improvement on the previous day.  The snow was thick and deep on the ground which would make walking difficult, but the air was still and perfectly clear.  The sun was shining and catching the ice on the tree branches, making the forest sparkle like an enchanted wonderland.

It was yet another day when a walk in the forest could have been an enjoyable experience, were it not for the company.  Draco seemed be going out of his way to be as unpleasant as possible.  Even when Alastor suggested stopping for lunch, Draco simply snapped that he would rather keep walking and why didn't they just eat on the move anyway, as there was no point in wasting time.  Alastor had been about to point out that it might actually be nice to stop and sit together for a while, but he stopped himself, fearing the cutting response and cruel put-down The Brat would undoubtedly have lined up for just such a comment.  He remained silent and handed Draco a chunk of bread, which Draco took without a word of thanks.  They kept walking. 

'Oh, how much further?'  Draco exclaimed at last, glaring at Alastor as if the whole situation was entirely his fault. 

'Not far.'  Alastor replied, feeling thoroughly worn down. 

'How far?'  Draco hissed crossly.  'Why can't you tell me properly?  Tell me the co-ordinates?  What do you think I'm going to do?  Run off and tell the death eaters?' 

Alastor stopped at glared at him. 

'We were all instructed not to share co-ordinates with anyone.'  He replied flatly. 

'That **is** what you think, isn't it?'  Draco exclaimed furiously.  'You honestly think I'd go running off to **them**?  Well that's just lovely, I must say!' 

Draco turned his back on Alastor and kept walking.  Alastor felt a pang of guilt. 

'It's not far now.'  He offered hopefully.  'About another mile, really... Not much...'

'Don't!'  Draco shouted at him, turning round suddenly.  'Don't even tell me that!  You clearly don't trust me, so don't tell me anything!  You wouldn't want to go against your orders, would you?' 

Alastor sighed crossly. 

'It's not as simple as that and you know it!'  He snapped. 

'Why not?'  Draco asked, stepping confrontationally close.  'It seems like everything is all very black and white to you!  All very business as usual!  What could possibly complicate things for you?' 

Draco was far too close for comfort and his eyes blazed with a passion which had nothing to do with wanting to know the coordinates of a shelter.  Alastor didn't know how to respond but suddenly there was a loud snap of a branch from nearby and both of them jumped.  Draco jumped towards Alastor and ended up in his arms for a split second before he jumped back again his face clouded with anger and fear in equal parts. 

'What was that?'  He asked nervously. 

'I don't know.'  Alastor replied.  'I think it was just a branch, but let's get out of here quickly.  I promise, we're almost there now.' 

He kept a little closer to Draco as they walked, hoping Draco's fear had broken the ice between them a little.  However, Draco soon returned to his one word answers and angry scowls.  Alastor was extremely frustrated.  Draco was sending out such mixed messages!  He was being so standoff-ish and difficult, but the look in his eyes when he had been shouting had been quite the opposite of standoff-ish.  What on earth was it The Brat wanted from him?  He was impossible!  He was so frustrating and he made a difficult journey all the more complicated and challenging.

By the time the little hut came into view, the atmosphere between them was as frosty as the forest around them. 

'Here we are!'  Draco exclaimed sarcastically.  'Another ministry approved shit-hole for the night!' 

Alastor didn't respond, so Draco stepped it up a gear. 

'But I expect you quite enjoy it, don't you?'  He goaded.  'You probably get a kick out of watching a son-of-a-death-eater like me suffering, don't you?  I wouldn't be surprised if everyone else got nice places to stay and it's just me who gets the crap places...  'That's Lucius Malfoy's kid, make sure he suffers, won't you?' 

Alastor glared at him with narrowed eyes but still said nothing.  He opened the door to the cabin. 

'Well at least we're here now and I can just go to sleep!'  Draco hissed finally.  'No point doing anything else really.  I just want this whole thing to be over!  I can't imagine anything worse than this and today has been the worst day ever!'  He flounced melodramatically past Alastor and slammed the door. 

Alastor had reached his limit. 

'Oh for Merlin's sake, Malfoy!  Do you ever stop complaining!'  He shouted.  'Why don't you just shut up!' 

Draco, eyes blazing just as they had done before, stepped dangerously close again.  They were barely inches apart. 

'Why don't you make me?'  Draco hissed venomously, his breathing heavy and his face flushed with exhilaration. 

Was this a mixed message?  Alastor wasn't sure, but what he was sure about was his response.  He grabbed Draco roughly and pulled him flush against his body.  One strong hand took hold of the back of Draco's head, Draco wasn't going to escape from this!  Alastor forced his lips over Draco's sulky, pouty mouth and pushed his lips apart with his tongue.  He kissed Draco so aggressively, all of the frustrations of the day caught up in the violent kiss.  To his shock, Draco kissed him back! 

Was this what The Brat had wanted all day long?  Was being thoroughly obnoxious the best way he could think to ask for it?  He was ridiculous!  But if this was what he wanted, he was damn well going to get it!  It **was** what he wanted, it clearly was, because he kissed back almost as angrily as Alastor kissed him.  He gripped Alastor hard, running his hands up and down his back, grasping at him furiously.

Alastor felt a flutter of exhilaration and also a touch of relief.  Draco's kisses were his explicit consent. Alastor would never have acted without consent, but he was so angry with The Brat, he needed to relieve his frustrations with him somehow.  He was so wound up and cross, and in no mood to ask nicely.

Alastor's hand made its way down to Draco's ass which felt full and firm thought his fitted leather jeans.  After caressing his cheeks for a matter of seconds, Alastor pressed his fingers meaningfully into the crease despite Draco still being clothed, making it clear exactly what he wanted.  He took his hand round to the front for a moment to flick a couple of the buttons undone as there was no way he could reach inside such a tight garment were it not undone.  Creating a little hand room, Alastor roughly stuck his hand down the back of Draco's trousers.  He ignored the front, ignored his cock altogether.  He didn't even check to see his Draco was hard.  There was only one thing he was interested in right now and that was The Brat's tight, yet oh so obliging anus.  He pressed his fingers into Draco's ass crease.  He didn't stop kissing him, more to keep him quiet than because of any feelings of affection.  His forefinger pointed straight at Draco's puckered hole. 

Without any preparation he pushed it all the way inside Draco, savouring the heat of his tight passage and despite the squeeze, he was able to force the full length of his finger inside without trouble and certainly with no resistance from Draco.  But one finger wasn't going to get his ass open and wide enough to take a dick on demand, and Alastor was too cross and wound up for any significant foreplay.  He pulled back and plunged in again, this time with two fingers.  He felt a thrill as he felt Draco try to yelp, the sound muffled by his own lips.  Two fingers inside the tight tunnel, Alastor began to finger Draco vigorously.  There was no gentle teasing here, only brutal forward thrusts and sharp backwards pulls before the full length was inserted again, over and over and at great speed.  With no lubrication, it wasn't long before Alastor aggressively stuffed a third finger into Draco's rather sore bottom and continued to bang him roughly.   

He sucked hard at Draco's pretty pouty lips and Draco battled him with his tongue, his hands gripping Alastor's face in an almost controlling fashion.  That was not how this was going to happen.  The Brat was not in control here!  In fact, he had no control in this whatsoever!  Alastor pulled away from his lips at once and grabbed hold of both of his wrists.  Draco was shocked, by the speed of his movements, and also by the sudden feeling of emptiness in his tingling anus.  Moody growled at him. 

'Keep your hands to yourself, you little brat!  Face the wall!  Go on!'  He barked, spinning Draco round so roughly that Draco only just had time to brace himself before his face hit the door frame.

  Despite his shock, Draco was obedient.  He faced the wall, he put his hands on the door at either side of his face.  He even seemed to be arching his back, sticking out his peachy little butt, his legs as parted as they could be with his trousers down around his ankles as he seemed to offer his ass to Alastor.  Perhaps by way of an apology for his behaviour? 

For a second Alastor was almost disbelieving at Draco's willingness and he stared for a moment at the submissive little slut, posed ready for whatever he was going to be given.  It seemed so odd that it was the same boy who had been so unpleasant and demanding all day long.  Or perhaps it wasn't that surprising at all?  It's always the ones you least expect. 

'Spread those cheeks for me, boy.'  Moody barked.  'Let me get a good look at your asshole.' 

This command meant that Draco could no longer use his arms to cushion himself from the wall.  He had to rest against it with his face as his hands were now required to pull his butt cheeks apart to expose his rosy little ring. 

Draco did as he was told and pulled his cheeks apart as far as he could, his fingertips inches from his hole, he wondered if he was gaping after the rough fingering Alastor had given him.  Alastor's lust seemed to grow exponentially when he saw the little hole stretch open before him.  Had he been feeling more patient he would have loved the chance to finger Draco's ass in this position and watch every second as he violated him, adding an extra finger when he thought Draco could take it, wondering just how far this horny little whore could go...  However, this was no time for playing games.  This was time to give the spoilt little brat the damn good anal pounding he deserved, weather he was ready for it or not...  Although it rather seemed he was! 

Alastor unfastened his own trousers and his thick, girthy cock fell heavy into his hand, seeping with pre-come. 

Draco didn't know whether to be disgusted or turned on when Alastor spat into his hand and then rubbed his saliva over the head of his shaft.  Alastor noticed the look of shock on Draco's face. 

'Naughty little boys who moan and complain all day long don't get to use lube charms.'  Alastor growled as he moved up behind Draco ready to mount him. 

One hand gripped Draco's hip and the other guided his cock to Draco's waiting hole.  The head pushed up against the opening and the little ring of muscle yielded right away, opening wider to take the staggering girth of Alastor's cock.  Despite how willing his anus seemed to be, Draco cried out in pain...  or possibly pleasure, it was hard to tell.  Alastor was not dissuaded.  Once fully sheathed inside, Alastor took hold of Draco's hips with both hands and began to fuck him furiously.

Over and over he slammed into the tight, sensitive little hole, often barely pulling out in-between, simply hammering away inside Draco, hitting his prostate with each aggressive, angry thrust.  He fucked Draco harder and more violently than he had ever fucked anyone in his life.   Alastor couldn't remember ever fucking anyone he was angry with before.  In fact it was disconcerting to realise he may never have fucked anyone about whom he had such strong emotions at all.  All of these feelings simply meant that he felt almost unable to hold back.  He fucked Draco like he was a whore, less than a whore, like he was a lifeless sex toy.  Fucked him like there was no tomorrow, no consequence for hurting or damaging this little slut.  Alastor surprised himself as he fucked Draco Malfoy in a way that was merciless and could even have bordered on sadistic and cruel, when he was neither of those things.  At least, he had never thought he was!    

'Aaaaahhhh....'   Draco cried desperately as Moody buggered him. 

'You love it, boy!'  Alastor growled, one hand caressing Draco's blond hair with forceful affection. 

Draco nodded through his sobs as tears began to form in his eyes and run down his rather flushed cheeks. 

Alastor felt a painful stab of conscience.  The Brat was crying.  He had fucked him and made him cry.  He had never done that to anyone!  He had never thought he **would** do that to anyone!  Although  Alastor was a rough, field-solider, he was also a kind man.  Draco was a boy in his care!  The sobering realisation crept over him but, somehow he wasn't stopping. 

He didn't stop, or even slow his pace, but he did lean closer to Draco.  This pushed Draco right up against the door, but meant that Draco's face was beside his and his lips found Draco's again from this rather awkward new position. 

With a desperate whimper, Draco kissed Alastor back with enthusiasm which Alastor had not expected.  One of Alastor's strong arms gripped Draco's shoulder, holding him tightly against his body.  He fucked him just as hard and with just as much emotion, only the emotions were changing.  Hatred was morphing into some other feeling...  frustrations between them unifying them.   Draco's tears ran freely down his face and he sobbed openly between breathy kisses. 

Alastor's pace at last began to slow, his thrusts becoming steady, deep, and so much more meaningful.  He was tender as he kissed Draco and nuzzled against his teary wet face.  Alastor had never fucked a crying person before and he was sure it was something you weren't supposed to do, but it didn't feel all that wrong now that it was happening.  It felt very intense and emotional.  Draco was clutching onto him as much as he possibly could, his hands reaching back behind him.  Alastor wished there was some easy way he could get them face to face as the entire impetus of their encounter shifted from an angry punishment, to a confession:  A surrender to such strong emotions about each other they could be expressed no other way.  It seemed it was true that there was a very, very fine line between hate and...  and... whatever feeling lay on the other side of the line... 

It was in this most bizarre intimate moment of horrifying realisation that he was not simply angry with The Brat, that Alastor felt his climax approaching him.  Deep inside the sobbing boy he was aggressively cradling in his arms, his cock began to pulse.  He felt his balls tighten. 

'Oh gods!  Oh Gods, Draco....'  Alastor stammered as he pumped his come deep inside Draco's anus, feeling the boy shudder with relief as he felt him finishing.  'Oh Draco!  Draco... Draco...'   He muttered, caressing Draco's wet face with his rough, gnarled hands.  

Draco's breathing seemed to steady in unison with Alastor's and his tears seemed to have subsided.  Alastor pulled out of him slowly, reality returning, and a dreadful sense of regret and horror at his actions hit him in the face at 100 miles an hour.  How **could** he have done that? 

Head Auror?  Leader of the advanced guard?  How could he, the ever disciplined, constantly vigilant Alastor Moody have behaved in such a way?  How could he have let himself be so wound up by the goading behaviour of a child?  How, how on this earth could he have allowed himself to respond in that way?  Merlin's balls!  He had practically raped the boy!   

He watched in perverse horror as a small trickle of his come leaked out of Draco's glowing red asshole and Draco, knees shaking and still trembling slightly, stumbled as he reached down to pull his trousers up. 

When Draco turned to face him, Alastor wasn't sure what he should do.  He couldn't read Draco's emotions accurately and Draco looked as uncertain as Alastor felt. 

Nervously, he extended his hand to Draco who still seemed to be a little unsteady on his feet.  Draco gratefully took hold of it and the second he did Alastor couldn't help but pull him close.  He wrapped his arms around the boy and held him against his body, his breathing ragged. 

'Oh Draco!'  He whispered his gruff voice husky with emotion.  'Draco, I'm so sorry!  I'm so, so sorry!' 

Face pressed into Alastor's jacket, Draco's mouth curled into a relieved smile. 

'Why?'  He whispered back.  'I'm not!' 

Alastor froze with shock for a second.  He rested his hands on Draco's shoulders and looked at him. 

'You're not?'  he asked. 

Draco tried to hold an expression of coolness and confidence, but Alastor was not deceived.  He could see the relief in Draco's face too, letting him know that Draco's tears had been genuine, in part at least. 

'Well, I'll admit I was a little bit scared...'  Draco replied, sensing that he couldn't fool Alastor.  'You were rougher than I expected...  but I can't pretend I didn't want to do it.'  He confessed looking slightly bashful and ashamed. 

Alastor frowned curiously and stroked a lock of Draco's hair back from his face. 

'I don't usually...  behave...  that way.'  He said staunchly. 

Draco grinned. 

'Neither do I!'  He exclaimed.  'I don't know what you think goes on in the Slytherin dorms these days, but it's not that, I promise you!' 

'But you wanted to do it?'  Alastor clarified. 

'I've been trying to get your attention all day!'  Draco replied sounding a little more casual, then...  'It's....  It's nice to know you care.'  He whispered intensely. 

'I must have hurt you pretty bad.'  Alastor said with concern. 

'Yeah, a bit.'  Draco admitted.  'But not necessarily in a bad way.'  He grinned again. 

Alastor reached into his pocket and pulled out a small potion bottle. 

'Have a healing potion.'  He offered. 

'Is that all we have?'  Draco asked.  'Shouldn't it be saved for something more serious?' 

'It's engorged...'  Alastor began.

Draco giggled a smutty giggle and Alastor continued awkwardly.

'There's about 6 months supply for battle in here.'  He told him. 

'Oh, go on then.'  Draco replied and he took a swig from the vial.  He swooned into Alastor's arms.  It was potent stuff! 

Alastor caught him readily and held him firmly but gently. 

'Should have warned you.  It's not standard issue.'  He muttered. 

'You don't say?'  Draco replied, regaining his balance. 

'Are you alright?'  Alastor asked. 

Draco thought for a moment as the potion took its effect. 

'Yes.'  He replied confidently.  'Are you?'  He added with a clear note of tenderness and he tilted his head and looked at Alastor with the same 'trying to figure him out' expression that Alastor looked at him with. 

'Yes, thank you.  I'm alright.'  Alastor replied gruffly, a little puzzled. 

'Good.'  Said Draco assertively, taking control of the situation.  'Why don't you sit down and relax for a while?'  He gestured to the one and only armchair.  'I can have a look and see what food there is.' 

Alastor had to sit down at this point otherwise he might just have fallen down in shock.  He couldn't quite believe The Brat had just offered to do something useful!  Maybe it was a side effect of the potion?  He collapsed heavily into the chair, realising just how much he was aching after the long days walk.

Draco headed to the small kitchen area.  This cabin was actually surprisingly well appointed.  It was one simple room, but there was a sink and a small stove, a fireplace and a chair...  an adjoining smaller hut with washing and toilet facilities. 

Alastor heard the sound of a kettle beginning to boil. 

'Tea?'  Draco called over to him. 

'Errr...  Yes please.  If there's nothing stronger.'   Alastor replied. 

Draco laughed. 

'Sadly not.'  He answered.  'I could just do with a nice glass of red.' 

'I could sure go for a large scotch!'  Alastor said.

Draco made his way over to the chair carrying a mug of tea.  He set it  down on the table beside Alastor. 

'Tea's the best I can do, I'm afraid.'  He smiled a very charming, warm smile. 

'Thank you.'  Alastor said sincerely. 

'Pleasure,'  Draco replied cheerily. 

Was this really the same boy?  It was bizarre, it really was! 

'Ok...'  Draco began.  'There's potatoes and onions and carrots...  There's a big cauldron to cook them in...'  He stopped.  'Help me out here!'  He said admitting defeat.  'I can't cook, you know that.  Right now, I wish I could, but I can't.  I've never had to.' 

Alastor laughed. 

'It's ok son.  I know.  We can make soup with that lot. Easy.'  Alastor replied kindly and went to stand up. 

'You don't have to get up.'  Draco said at once.  'I can do it if you just tell me.  I'd like to try.' 

Alastor was touched, but he turned the chair to partly face the kitchen.  It could be a trick.  Draco could be about to drug him or poison him after all. 

'Get some water on to boil.'  Alastor instructed and he watched as Draco followed the instructions. 

He told Draco how to chop the vegetables, including telling him a charm to shield his eyes from the sting of the onions.  He was surprised at just how capable Draco was.  He must have been quite a good student at school...  Actually, he was probably a complete nightmare as a student...  But a capable nightmare at least. 

When Draco left the pan to simmer, he picked up their bags and carried them over to the bed.  The only bed. 

'Well it looks like there's only one bed again.'  Draco observed.  'But at least this time it's big enough for two.'  He added suggestively. 

Alastor's heart skipped a nervous beat.  This was important.  This needed to be talked about.  He heaved himself to his feet and walked over to Draco. 

'Listen son...'  He began nervously.  'You can't really...  you can't really want that, can you?  I mean...  You can't really want to share a bed with, me...  can you Draco?  That can't be what you want...' 

'Please!  Alastor, please don't!'  Draco cried suddenly with a passion that took Alastor by surprise.  'Please don't tell me what I want!  I can't bare it!' 

Draco's eyes were suddenly wet with the beginning of tears.  Alastor remained silent. 

'All my life people have been telling me what I should want!'  Draco exclaimed passionately.  'I can make my own decisions, you know!  You don't know what I want, no one does!  Ever since I was born I had people telling me what to like, what to want, what to aspire to...  But none of them know me, not really!  They don't know anything about what I want!'  He exclaimed with veracity. 

Alastor understood what he was saying and looked at him sympathetically, holding his shoulders reassuringly.  Draco deserved to be listened to for once and not simply told what to think.    

'I'm sorry.'  He said as gently as his gruff voice would allow.  'I just meant...  Surely...  you don't really want to...  sleep with me...?  To lay down with me...  Knowing what you are doing...?  Really,  You... with someone like me...?'  He asked sincerely. 

'Please don't...'  Draco pleaded again.  He stepped nearer to Alastor.  'I **do** want to sleep with you....' 

Draco stepped closer still, pressing their bodies together, one hand around Alastor's neck, one caressing his hair. 

'I want **you** , Alastor.'  He whispered softly.  'I want to go to bed with you.  I want you, on me.  You, in me...'  He whispered seductively, close to Alastor's ear... 

Alastor felt the hair on the back on his neck stand on end and he instinctively wrapped his hands around Draco's waist and held him against his body.

'You'll have to give me a little longer to recover if that's what you want...'  Alastor whispered in a dry tone of voice.  'I'm an old man remember, not a young thing like you.' 

Against his better judgement, against every shred of logic and reason he kissed Draco softly on the lips. 

Nothing about this was logical.  Nothing about it made sense.  Yet here they were, standing at the foot of the bed, holding each other and kissing.  Kissing softly, sweetly and meaningfully because no words would have done their feelings justice. 

They could possibly have kissed indefinitely, if for no other reason than it made more sense that talking.  Lips over each others, there was no need to explain anything.  Chemistry said everything that needed to be said and logic no longer seemed to exist.  After all, it would be easy if all they ever had to do was stand there are kiss.  If that was all they every had to do it wouldn't matter that it didn't make sense.  The rest of the world could begin to melt away... 

Just then, the stove made a sharp hissing sound as the water in the pan bubbled over. 

'Better go see to that.'  Alastor said, loosening his grip on Draco's waist. 

He had meant that he would go and see to it, but to his surprise Draco said

'OK' 

And he instantly hurried over to the stove.  He turned the heat down and checked the vegetables with a fork. 

'It's all cooked.'  Draco smiled happily at Alastor.  'There's some bread too.  I'll cut some for you.'  He added proudly.  He knew how to do this now, because Alastor had taught him. 

Alastor made his way back to the chair and he took a moment to stoke up the fire, whilst keeping an eye of Draco from across the room.  _'Constant vigilance...'_   He reminded himself inside his head.  He had to keep watching Draco, just to make sure he wasn't up to anything...  It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the haughty, aristocratic boy looked more beautiful than ever as he subserviently tended to simple domestic chores with such diligence and childlike enthusiasm.  Alastor didn't want to take his eyes off him for a second.

Draco carried a bowl of hot soup and a plate with some slices of bread over to Alastor and he set them down on the little side table and picked up the empty mug which had contained tea. 

'There you are.'  He smiled proudly.  'I'm sure it will be terrible of course...'  He continued as he made his way back to the stove to dish some up for himself,  'I'll  have to make it up to you some day by taking you out for a proper dinner somewhere nice.' 

Alastor took a spoonful of the broth.  It was basic, certainly, but really not bad at all, and hot food was very welcome on a cold day. 

'It's pretty good actually.'  He told Draco, who was sauntering over, his own soup in a mug as there was only one bowl. 

Draco tried a sip.

'Hummmmm....'  He mused cynically.  'I'm not sure it's quite up to restaurant standards.' 

'I'm not one for fancy food anyway.'  Alastor replied.  'I'd rather have you cooking for me at home than go out to some swanky restaurant any day.' 

He had spoken spontaneously.  Just a casual comment but once the words were out of his mouth he realised not just **what** he had said, but just how much he meant it.  He could imagine nothing nicer than having Draco with him, cooking meals for him, doing things for him, all the time.  The emotion behind it was overwhelming as was the worry that it may have sounded a little disrespectful, like he wanted Draco to wait on him...  It wasn't just that that he wanted Draco to cook for him, he wanted more than that...  It was just that the sight of the spoilt little boy cooking and doing chores so willingly was deliciously enchanting.

Draco blushed a soft rose-pink, taking nothing but compliments from Alastor's words.  It had surprised him just how much he enjoyed cooking and he almost resented never having had the chance to do it before.  He wondered for a split second what it must have been like to have grown up in a family like the Weasley's, with a mother who cooked?  A mother who spent time with her children.  A house where you were allowed to go into the kitchen.  The children probably learnt cooking spells.  They would have rolled out pastry, kneaded dough, messily iced birthday cakes for their siblings...  Draco was sure Ron Weasley could probably have created something far more impressive for Alastor than the feeble watery soup he had just created.  Draco, not for the first time in his life felt an intense wave of jealousy about Ron Weasley.  Then he reminded himself that if he had been born a Weasley he would have ginger hair, a gormless expression and a face like a concussed toad.  Suddenly not being able to cook didn't seem quite so bad.  After all, perhaps he could learn?

They ate their simple meal together by the fire and once they had finished Draco set about washing the dishes, another chore that was new to him but rather novel too.  Alastor watched him from his chair by the fire and there was an odd sort of contentment to it all as thought they were in a strange state of domestic bliss in this rickety old hut in the middle of the forest. 

It was getting late.  Alastor built up the fire, hoping to keep it burning as long as possible into the night.  They took it in turns to visit the small wash room and then at last it was time for them to go to bed. 


	7. Pillow Talk

 

It was different this time, very different from the past two times they had been together.  This time was different because it was not simply a moment of madness, a random impulsive act.  It was planned and considered.  It was an act that was entered into knowingly and with due consideration.  It was done with full awareness of what they were doing, and somehow this made it seem all the more forbidden and exciting. 

Alastor and Draco stood at the foot of the bed and gazed at each other by the soft flickering fire and candlelight.  The air prickled with anticipation. 

Alastor rested his hands lightly on Draco’s shoulders feeling a wave of tenderness wash over him, a far cry from his feelings earlier that evening.   

‘This really what you want, son?’  Alastor asked, feeling it was only right to give the boy a chance to back out. 

Draco’s grey eyes sparkled and he smiled a playful yet meaningful smile. 

‘How much clearer do I need to make it?’  He asked coyly, placing his hands on Alastor chest and slowly beginning to unbuttoned his shirt.

Alastor frowned as he lightly caresses Draco’s face.  This whole thing still made no sense at all yet there they were, in a log cabin lit by candlelight, beginning to undress one another.  Draco stepped closer and smiled softly at Alastor.  Draco was very beautiful when he smiled.  He was very beautiful any time he wasn’t scowling, and in fact he was annoyingly cute even then, Alastor thought to himself.

Draco pressed his lower body meaningfully against Alastor, his hands resting on Alastor's broad shoulders.  Alastor's hands met in the small of Draco’s back. 

Draco smiled at him and reached up to caress his face.   It was not in Alastor's nature to trust anyone to touch his face but he tried his best to steady himself and allow it despite it being so out of his comfort zone.  As Draco’s hand touched his scarred cheek he flinched in spite of himself.  

Draco instantly moved his hand away, concern and confusion in his eyes. 

‘Does that hurt?’  He asked softly. 

Alastor shook his head a little embarrassed. 

‘No.’  He replied in a rasping voice.  ‘No, it’s just...  I’m not used to it.’ 

Draco smiled understandingly, his sharp features softened by the candlelight and by the look of kindness on his face.  He ever so gently caressed Alastor's cheek again, tracing his smooth fingertips over the scarred and unscarred flesh alike.   He lent close and kissed Alastor's cheek, then his lips...  Then Alastor felt Draco's hand slip around the back of his neck, fingers moving up into his hair, stroking, caressing him with tender affection. 

Alastor's hands explored the curves of Draco’s back.  He felt so perfectly formed, a work of art!  He was as well defined as a statue and far more beautiful.  Alastor felt a rising sense of panic as Draco’s hands moved and began again to unbutton his shirt. 

He had scars everywhere.  All over his body there were old wounds, marks, imperfections.  He was still muscular, years of active service had taken care of that, but his form was certainly not that of a finely chiselled statue.   His well-worked muscles made his body appear like a thick, knotted, old oak tree.  Strong, bulky, tough, resilient...  but not beautiful.  No one ever thought him beautiful.  Or desirable.  People admired him, thought him brave, heroic, and courageous.  But people didn’t **desire** him.  They didn’t want to make love with him!  Why would Draco, of all people want to do this?  Spoilt little Draco Malfoy who was used to having nothing but the best of everything...  Surely he would turn his nose up in disgust or simply laugh at Alastor's scarred body, his prosthetic leg, for Merlin sake! 

Draco undid the last of the buttons on Alastor's shirt and was about to push it open.  Alastor who was trying his best to remain calm, broke at this point.  Suddenly both his hands were holding Draco’s wrists preventing him from moving. 

Draco gasped and fear flashed across his face. 

Alastor felt ashamed.  He loosened his grip on Draco’s wrists. 

‘Sorry...’  He mumbled sounding very embarrassed.   He desperately didn’t want to be bad at this! 

‘Is something wrong...?’  Draco whispered in a seductive voice, hoping to assure Alastor that everything was alright so they could get back to the kissing.

‘I'm... I’m not....’  Alastor began.  ‘I'm not **pretty** you know.’  He managed uncomfortably.  ‘If you take this shirt off, you...  you might not like what you see.’  He concluded awkwardly. 

‘I've seen you.’  Draco replied earnestly.  ‘I saw you last night, remember?  You took everything off.  You didn’t mind then.’  He pointed out, curiously. 

‘That was before....’  Alastor began and then stopped suddenly. 

‘Before what?’  Draco asked. 

‘Before...  before I realised that you... that we...  That anything might happen... between us...’  Alastor replied.  ‘I didn’t think you’d ever look at me...  in this way, so it...   It didn’t matter what you saw.’  He concluded gruffly. 

Draco frowned. 

‘But I saw you and we still...  did what we did.’  He smiled.  ‘Why would it be a problem now?’ 

‘These scars, they're not just on my face you know.’  Alastor told him in a serious tone. 

‘I know.’  Draco replied.  ‘I saw them on your shoulder the second night when I massaged you, remember?’ 

‘That scar is a burn.’  Alastor told him. ‘Made by Fiendfyre.’ 

Draco flinched at the thought and his face contorted with sympathy and concern.  

‘It was my second big mission as an Auror.   I was 22.’  Alastor said numbly.

Draco frowned again and reached up and kissed Alastor's lips gently, one hand caressing his lined face. 

‘Please Alastor...’ Draco whispered.  ‘Let me see you.’ 

He placed his hands back onto Alastor's shirt and pushed it back over his shoulders.

Alastor tried not to flinch as Draco revealed his torso.  The scar on his right shoulder extended not only down his back where Draco had seen it, but down his chest too.  The shiny reddened skin with white lines ribboning through it covered much of Alastor's upper arm and his chest above his nipple. 

Draco traced his fingers lightly over the burn and he looked intently at it. 

‘Doesn't is disgust you?’  Alastor asked.  ‘Burned skin is hardly pretty.’ 

‘It's like a map...’  Draco mused curiously, looking at the lines and details of the scar tissue.

 ‘Can you feel everything the same?’  Draco asked. 

‘Mostly.’  Alastor replied as Draco touched him lightly. 

Draco smiled.  He put his lips just above Alastor's nipple and kissed him softly. 

‘Can you feel that...?  Draco asked with a sultry smile.

‘Yes.’  Alastor said staunchly. 

‘And this...?’  Draco asked and he trailed his tongue from Alastor's nipple up to his collar bones.

‘Yes...’  Alastor whispered with a longing shudder. 

Draco smiled a playful smile.  And moved his hands lower down Alastor's torso.  He stopped over 3 white round scars just below his ribs on his left side. 

‘Hungarian Horntail.  Ran me through with its horns.  Ironic really.  We were rescuing it from illegal traders.  It had been mistreated, didn’t trust anyone.  Went for me.’ 

Draco looked shocked. 

‘Horntail was alright though.  Went to a sanctuary in Romania to be rehabilitated into the wild.’ 

Draco grinned. 

‘I'm more worried about what happened to you.’  Draco replied. 

‘I was out of action for a while.   Laid up in St Mungo's.   But I bounced back.  I always do.’ 

Draco stroked Alastor's face affectionately. 

‘I'm very glad about that.’  Draco said softly. 

Alastor put his arms around Draco's waist and kissed him on the lips.  They kissed each other appreciatively, kisses becoming more and more intense until Alastor finally returned the gesture and unfastened Draco’s shirt and slipped it off his shoulders too. 

Draco’s body was perfect, Alastor knew that.  They both knew it, and Draco had been confident enough about being shirtless from the very first morning they had woken up in the first shelter.  Even then, Alastor had noticed the perfection of Draco’s body, however hard he had tried not to. 

Today however he was finally allowed to notice, and notice he did as he ran his rough hands up and down Draco’s back, savouring the silky smoothness of him.

However, Alastor was not over his insecurities yet.  When he felt Draco beginning to thrust his hips against him, and when Draco’s roving hand made its way to the button of his trousers he froze once more, stopping Draco in his tracks. 

‘I... I errr... I have a prosthetic leg, you know that right?  You’d noticed?’  Alastor asked nervously.  

‘Of course I had.’  Draco replied.  ‘I'd noticed you don’t take it off to sleep, as well.’  He observed. 

‘Sometimes I do.’  Alastor clarified.  ‘But never in a potential combat situation.   If we were attacked in the night I’d need to move fast.’ 

‘You never relax, do you?’  Draco whispered sympathetically.  ‘You must be so stressed all the time.’ 

‘Relaxing isn’t something I’m good at.’  Alastor admitted. 

‘I'd like to help you.’  Draco offered.  ‘One day I’ll get you to relax with me.’  He smiled sweetly. 

‘Why?’  Alastor asked at once, unable to hold back any longer.   ‘Why would you want to do that Draco?  Why would you want to go to bed with me?  You’re so pretty, so beautiful and I'm so... well...  I’m not exactly good looking, am I?’ 

‘I fancy you!’  Draco replied brashly. 

Alastor was stunned.  What a crazy idea!  And what a charmingly silly way to phrase it. 

‘Why?’  Alastor asked again completely baffled. 

‘Why not?’  Draco replied directly.  ‘Why are **you** attracted to **me**?’ 

Alastor gave him a look which seemed to say _‘don’t be facetious’_ and Draco continued. 

‘Ok, bad example.’  He grinned. 

If there was one thing that could be said about Draco, he certainly never employed false modesty to draw out compliments, Alastor noticed.  He quite liked that about him.  There was an honesty to it. 

‘Why does anyone fancy anyone?’  Draco pushed his point.  ‘It's not all about looks, is it?  It’s like... chemistry or something.  Maybe I’m just an animal reacting to your pheromones...?’  He grinned.  ‘Besides, I **like** the way you look, is that so hard to believe?  It shouldn’t be you know.  If I wanted to date a fashionable pretty boy... well.... I could save myself the boring conversation and just date myself!’

Alastor couldn’t help by laugh and he caressed Draco’s face playfully.  

‘My point is I’m not attracted to people who look exactly like me.  Merlin's balls!  Even **I’m** not that narcissistic! I like real, manly men, you know?  Rugged, strong, experienced.  Not too clean and tidy... a little rough around the edges...’  He smiled a flirty smile.  ‘What can I say Alastor?  You really do it for me!’ 

And there they were.  Half undressed, in an enchanted, candlelit log cabin in the middle of a forest...  How much longer was Alastor going to worry about things and resist going with the flow?  He sighed deeply.   It was hard for him to grasp, but perhaps... just maybe...  Draco could be telling the truth?

Alastor pulled Draco close again and held him tightly. 

‘Gods you're so damn beautiful.’  He muttered, gazing at Draco’s perfect features illuminated by the soft, warm light. 

‘Kiss me then.’  Draco prompted playfully. 

Alastor did as invited and his lips met Draco's once again in a passionate union, now with an additional tenderness and depth of understanding between them.   This time when Draco reached for his trousers Alastor allowed it and simply returned the favour, undressing his little lover, as he undressed him. 

They moved towards the bed. 

Alastor sat down leaning against the headboard, his legs extended in front of him.  His modesty dictated that he covered his lower body with the blankets and waited for Draco to join him. 

Draco, who was far from self conscious, moved gracefully round the side of the bed, unashamed of his nakedness and more than happy to flaunt himself.   He climbed onto the bed besides Alastor and slipped under the covers only because Alastor had done so. 

Draco knelt beside him, facing him.  With a playful smile he climbed onto Alastor's lap, straddling him.  It seemed Draco wanted a turn at being in control.

They made love face to face, and it was mind blowing.  It was perfect.  Alastor gripped Draco's slender shoulders as he rode his thick hard cock.  Draco ran his smooth hands adoringly up and down Alastor's body, worshiping every inch of him with tender caresses. 

It was easy to kiss while they made love this way.  It was easy for Alastor to hold Draco tightly, to lose himself from time to time in Draco's sparkling gray eyes.  It was the perfect position for Draco to whisper seductively in Alastor's ear, telling him over and over again how much he wanted him and how good it felt to be with him. 

It was the perfect position for Draco to do all of the work and for Alastor to simply lay back and enjoy every moment.  That was exactly what he did, as his only real concern was that Draco should be satisfied by this as well, and it was evident from Draco's rock hard cock, that he clearly was enjoying himself.  It took very little work on Alastor's part, to take hold of Draco's dick and toy with it, and bring Draco to a climax. 

When Alastor felt his turn approaching, he used his strength to push Draco into the exact rhythm he needed to finish.  Gasping needily, Draco locked eyes with Alastor and the intensity of emotion between them was almost overwhelming.  Alastor cried out and his whole body shuddered as he came inside Draco, feeling more emotional than he could remember having felt for a very long time.  It was both beautiful and terrifying all at once.   

The last embers of the fire glowed in the grate bathing the cabin in a low orange light.  Draco lay on his side, gazing at the remains of the fire, Alastor behind him holding him gently.  Despite the fire burning low the cabin was hot and they lay only half covered by the blankets having worked up quite a sweat over the last hour!  Now however, they were peaceful, their breathing soft and slow.  Draco felt perfectly relaxed.  Alastor was as close to relaxed as he could get and was still wondering just what on earth Draco was playing at!

‘They warned us not to do this sort of thing, you know.’  Alastor half whispered as he lightly traced his fingertips up and down Draco’s arm.

Draco glanced at him with a grin.

‘Did they?’  He exclaimed.

‘ _Serious misconduct_.’  Alastor replied.  ‘That’s what old Fudge said.  No fraternising with your charges.’

Draco laughed.  

‘Did he?’  He grinned.  ‘But you didn't listen!  So are you’re going to be in trouble because I’ve led you astray?’

‘No one takes Fudge too seriously.’  Alastor explained.  ‘He’s was never an Auror you see.  We all know things are different out in the field.  We make our own rules.’

Draco felt a silent thrill as he listened to this.  Alastor was so real, so hard, so dangerous!  

‘Plus I don’t think he was aiming his warning at me.’  Alastor continued.  ‘Thinks I’m too old for that sort of carry on!’

‘Well clearly you’re not!’  Draco remarked flirtatiously.  ‘Who was he aiming it at?’  He added curiously.

‘Shacklebolt.’  Alastor replied gruffly.  ‘Bit of a player, that one!  And Dawlish too, now that I think about it.   He’s had his moments!’ 

Draco’s eyes glinted. 

‘I bet you’ve got some great stories about them all!’  He exclaimed.  ‘Real scandalous behaviours, I’ll bet!’ 

‘Oh yes.’  Alastor replied.  ‘But I’m sworn to secrecy on that sort of thing I’m afraid.’

‘What happens in the field stays in the field, huh?’  Draco laughed.

Alastor nodded.

‘We Aurors keep our secrets.’  He replied. 

‘Am I one of your secrets?’  Draco asked, turning to face him.  ‘Will you tell anyone about me?’ 

Alastor gently stroked a lock of blond hair from Draco’s face and smiled at him kindly. 

‘Not if you don’t want me to.’  He replied.  ‘I'm not one for boasting and bragging.  Do you want to be kept secret, Draco?’ 

Draco thought for a moment and he gazed at Alastor.  Alastor was really very handsome and kind looking when he wasn’t being irritable, Draco thought to himself.  Although he was annoyingly attractive even when he was being grumpy, Draco realised. 

‘I don’t mind if people know about this, actually.’  Draco replied, one hand gently caressing Alastor scarred face almost instinctively.  ‘I don’t mind at all...  In fact...’

Draco stopped suddenly and looked away, looked down at the sheets, self conscious and shy. 

‘What?’  Alastor prompted gently.

Draco took a deep breath and gathered his courage.

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind people knowing at all.’  He reiterated.  ‘In fact, I’d like to keep on... you know...  Seeing you, even after this journey is over.’ 

The short science that followed felt like an eternity to Draco, who felt a little like a sick person awaiting a doctors diagnosis.   

Alastor was slightly in shock.  Had Draco Malfoy just asked him out?  He almost shook his head disbelievingly.

‘Draco, that can’t really be what you want, can it?’  Alastor asked earnestly.

‘There you go again, telling me what I want!’ Draco replied.  ‘Why wouldn’t I want you see you?’

Alastor sighed and looked kindly at Draco his face full of sympathy.  Could it be that Draco really did want to be with him?  Could Draco really be so desperate for a strong caring father figure that he would actually consider a relationship with him?  The poor boy!  For all his defensive nastiness, despite his very accomplished Brat act, Alastor saw Draco for what he was:  A frightened, lonely young man who really was quite on his own in the world.  A young man who was without any good influences from either friends or family.  Someone who, against all the odds had turned away from the dark arts and was reaching for the light.  _'The poor little lost soul!'_ Alastor thought tenderly. 

‘Well?’ Draco prompted anxiously.  ‘Why shouldn’t I want to be with you?’

‘Draco...’  Alastor began as gently as he could.  ‘Draco, you and I, we’re total opposites.’

‘Because you’re good and I’m bad?’  Draco replied a note of confrontation appearing in his voice.

‘No.’  Alastor clarified firmly in a no nonsense voice.  ‘Not that at all.  We’re opposites because, well... you're so young!  You’re young and I must say, very beautiful...’

Draco smiled appreciating the compliment.

‘Young, attractive, stylish... really, everything I’m not!’  Alastor continued.  ‘ You are full of life and enthusiasm whereas I’m a miserable grumpy old man.  Bitter, jaded and cynical... and I’m certainly no oil painting!’ 

Draco laughed a little disbelievingly but Alastor continued.  

‘How could we ever see each other, Draco, really?  How would it work?’  He asked, regret in his voice.  ‘You would be wanting to go to places and parties, dressed up and looking lovely...  you wouldn’t want an old toad like me tagging along cramping your style, would you?  I’m a bad tempered, paranoid old man and I’d end up crushing your spirit and driving you crazy.’

Draco stared at Alastor slightly aghast. 

‘Alastor...’  Draco began, using his first name meaningfully, just as Alastor had done.  ‘Alastor, have we actually met?  I mean, do you really think I’m some fresh faced, bright young thing?  Some happy go lucky socialite who only cares about parties and fashion?  I guess if you do it means I play my part well!  I admit that’s the impression I try to give, but I thought I’d let my guard down with you.  Yes, I can walk the high-society walk when I want to, but that’s not really all that's important to me.  I don’t rate people purely by their social standing or class!  I grew up dodging torture curses from pure-bloods from the moment I was old enough to be left with ‘Aunty Bella’ for babysitting!  I know better than anyone what these supposedly decent pure-blood families can be like and I don’t care for it at all!  That’s why I’m here!  Why I came to the ministry for help in the first place! Yes, I dress well and I show those sort of values, but it’s because that’s all I’ve ever had.  It’s all I’m good at.  But it’s not all I want.  It wouldn’t matter to me that you’re not in the sacred 28!  And it doesn’t matter to me that you dress like you live in a ditch!...’

Alastor suppressed a laugh.  Draco certainly had a way with words!

‘I bet I could dress you nicely anyway, if you’d let me.’  Draco continued.  ‘Not all the time of course, I’m not trying to change you, I just mean for special occasions, if you wanted me to...’

‘Draco, you’d run yourself ragged trying to make me look presentable.’  Alastor grunted in reply.  ‘Its very kind of you but this is exactly what I mean!  You’ll try, you’ll be generous and giving in your strange spoilt way...’

It was not just Draco who had a way with words this evening!

‘You’ll waste your time on me...’ Alastor continued ‘and I’ll be stubborn as a mule and you’ll end up resenting me.  You know what they say ‘you can’t make a silk purse out of a flobberworm skin!’

Draco laughed.

‘Alastor, you’re ridiculous!’  He replied precociously.  ‘You’re not a flobberworm! You’re not polished and high maintenance like me, and that’s a good thing!  You’re a working man.  Beyond that, you’re a hero!  You might be a little rough, but damn it Alastor, you’re a rough diamond!  And besides, I thought you’d figured out by now, I like a bit of roughness.  I thought you’d noticed that!’

‘I had got that impression, yes.’ Alastor replied cautiously.

‘OK so your irritable, cynical, paranoid.  And the worst dressed person since those muggles let Potter out from under the stairs, but I don’t care!  You’re also brave, heroic, strong, resilient, and kinder and gentler than people would realise.  Yes, I’m beautiful, young, fashionable and exceedingly rich.  But I’m also stubborn, spiteful, demanding, scheming, extremely hard work and a complete attention whore who would probably drive you to despair in a week, but I still want to be with you!’

Alastor was a little lost for words.  He and Draco seemed to be competing to see who could insult themselves, and each other, the most effectively whilst arguing about whether or not they should be in a relationship.   It was the most bizarre conversation!

‘You have a funny way of trying to sell this to me.’  Alastor remarked with a smile just beginning to form on his lips.

‘Well...’  said Draco in a calm and reflective voice.  ‘There it is.  Take it or leave it.  I want you, Alastor and not one of your arguments against us being together has implied that you don’t want me too.  So here we are.  And for what it’s worth, you might be right:  It might be a complete disaster.  We might be the most unlikely and scandalous couple since those revelations about Dumbledore and Grindlewald, but you know what?  I’m game if you are!  I thought you Aurors were supposed to be brave!  It might be completely crazy but you know what?  It might be so completely crazy that it just might work!’ 

Draco finished his speech with a little nod and a smile, hiding his nerves as he awaited Alastor's response. 

Alastor nodded slowly, musing over their bizarre conversation.  At last he reached out and took hold of both of Draco’s hands and looked at him directly. 

‘Let me get this straight...’  He began.  ‘After 4 days of barely saying a civil word to each other you have reached the decision that we really should start seeing each other?’

‘I think we’ve had moments where we’ve been more than civil to each other!’  Draco grinned.  ‘Maybe our snappiness with each other was just because of all the sexual tension between us...?’ Draco flirted. 

‘You were snappy with me earlier today.’ Alastor pointed out.

‘That’s because I thought it hadn’t meant anything to you.  I thought you just wanted to forget it happened.  You were being so unemotional about it I just had to try to get a response.’

‘And did you get the one you wanted?’  Alastor asked, with a glint in his eye. 

‘I think you know the answer to that.’ Draco replied.  He moved closer.  ‘Look, Alastor, I like you.   I really think there’s something between us and it’s not something I want to just walk away from.  I don’t know what you think of me but I don’t usually jump into bed with people like this.  _Brat_ I may be;  _Slut_ I am not! Please Alastor, you know what I think.  Tell me what you think.’

‘I think it’s a question I never thought I’d be asked.’  Alastor replied honestly.  ‘I think you are the most gorgeous, irresistible, sexy little thing I’ve ever seen and I can’t help but wonder what you see in an old goat like me.’

‘You’re a horny old goat.’ Draco replied without missing a beat.

Alastor laughed.

‘OK, so we like each other...’  He concluded.   ‘We like each other and I think we have established by now that we are certainly, shall we say... compatible in the bedroom department!’

Draco blushed slightly, glad he was not the only one that thought so.

‘Yes.  I would have to agree with that.’  He smiled. 

‘But it’s all very well and good out here in a wooden hut in the middle of a forest.’  Alastor continued.  ‘But what about when there are other people around?  How’s it going to look then?’

‘I guess if there are other people around you should wait until we get to a bedroom and not just fuck me on the doorstep.’ Draco said dryly.

Alastor sighed but smiled too. 

‘That’s not what I meant and you know it, you little beast.’  He replied.  ‘I meant what will people think of us seeing each other?  Won’t that bother you?’

Draco rested his hands on Alastor's shoulders.  Alastor wrapped his hands around Draco's waist.  They were still talking about it but it seemed the decision had already been made. 

‘I'm stubborn enough and rich enough not to care what anyone thinks about me.’ Draco replied confidently.  ‘Besides, it’s not that unusual is it?  Plenty of young wizards and witches date older people, and plenty of more mature gentlemen like to have a young play thing, don’t they?’

‘You want to be my play thing, do you Malfoy?’  Alastor teased Draco with a light kiss. 

‘Oh, yes!’ Draco replied slickly.  ‘I want to be your little toy boy and do whatever you want me to do.’

‘You’re very submissive when it comes to sex, aren’t you?’ Alastor grinned.

‘Classic spoilt rich boy.  Too much money and power.  I just want someone to dominate me.’ Draco replied playfully.

Alastor grinned and laughed although he knew it was more than that.  Draco was also a boy starved of love and kindness who may well have wanted to be dominated in bed but who also wanted care and affection too.  An adorable mix between a naughty little sex toy and a precious treasured pet Alastor thought. 

‘Stop trying to distract me!’  He exclaimed, returning to the subject.  ‘What will people think about us?  People will be shocked, you know.  They’ll have plenty to say about it I’m sure.   That doesn’t bother you?’

‘I told you, I’m an attention whore!’ Draco laughed.  ‘People can talk, stare, whisper, point...  Merlin knows, I’ve had that all my life for one reason or another!  It doesn’t bother me.  I’ll just look down my nose at everyone just like I always do!’  He grinned.  ‘Question is, do **you** mind?  You’re the one with the good reputation you might want to protect.  And what about this serious misconduct thing?  Will that be a problem?’  He asked.

Alastor thought for a moment and shook his head.   

‘If you were 17, only just of age, although it would be legal it would be frowned upon.  But given that you are over 18, you're free to do what you please with who you please.  Besides, Fudge would never call me in for misconduct, he wouldn’t dare! The Aurors listen to me, they don’t take a blind bit of notice of him.  He’d have a full scale riot on his hands in a week.’  Alastor grunted.  ‘And as for good reputation, yes, maybe I do.  But I’m certainly not squeaky clean, am I?  I don’t think a young romantic interest with a questionable background would shock anyone... other than the fact of me having a romantic interest at all, that is...’  He mused. 

‘Maybe they’ll think you’re dating me to keep an eye on me?  You know, this was the best way to make sure I stay out of trouble...?’ Draco grinned. 

‘So we’re dating now, are we?’ Alastor muttered. 

‘It sounds more polite than fucking.’ Draco retorted.  ‘And yes, we will date.  Properly.  When this is over.  I’m going to take you to that little place in Bordeaux I told you about.’

‘And I’ll take you down the Leaky Cauldron for a pint of butterbeer and a packet of crisps.’ Alastor replied. 

‘And I’ll sneer at everyone, curl my nose up at the decor, ask for expensive wine which they won’t have.  Inspect the glasses to make sure they’re clean, and be generally stuck up and obnoxious...’  Draco teased.  ‘But secretly I’ll be loving every moment of it... and I’ll probably be trying to grope you under the table.’

Alastor laughed.  This was madness, it really was!  He could picture it all too well:  Draco being difficult on purpose, him pretending to be annoyed but actually finding him infuriatingly cute and thinking his bad behaviour was just the prefect excuse to spank him later.  Did Draco enjoy spanking Alastor wondered?   Now that they were apparently ‘dating’ he figured he might just find out one day!

Draco lightly brushed his lips over Alastor's mouth.  He moved his body right up against him for warmth, the fire was dying and the room was getting colder. 

‘Maybe we should get some sleep now?’  Draco whispered softly.

‘Maybe.’ Alastor muttered in reply, his mouth against Draco’s. 

They lay down together, Alastor spooning Draco, a position which felt so very natural to them.  Alastor pulled the blankets up around their shoulders, the room was definitely getting cold now.  

Draco smiled contentedly and glanced over his shoulder at Alastor.

‘Goodnight, boyfriend.’ He said with a grin.

‘Hummph’ Alastor mumbled, not quite sure how to respond.  A kiss on the cheek, perhaps that was the best response.

And Draco seemed content with it and he closed his eyes and went to sleep.


	8. Ill Met By Moonlight

 

Alastor didn’t sleep well.  It was nothing to do with sharing the bed with someone, although it was an unusual experience for him.  Alastor never slept well.  He always woke several times, spent a couple of restless hours turning over and over, worrying about the sounds of the night, and the day ahead. 

On this occasion his wakeful hours were spent gazing down at the boy who slept beside him.  Draco’s sleep was largely untroubled.  He stirred occasionally and as the fire died and the cabin grew colder he pulled the blankets more tightly around his shoulders and snuggled down to sleep.  

He was a fascinating little creature, Alastor thought, as he watched him.  Just what exactly motivated him?  It seemed he wasn’t a bad person after all. He hated the death eaters, resented his parents and although he wasn’t always the model of charm, it seemed there was no evil in him. 

And when he did decide to be charming, he was really charming.  He was lovely when he wanted to be and somehow it was all the more special because he didn’t  offer his nice side often, or to just anyone.  Much as Alastor himself, Draco Malfoy kept his gentle side a closely guarded secret and it made it something all the more precious when he trusted someone enough to show it. 

Draco had given his affection to Alastor.  He had opened up to him, been gentle, obliging, obedient.  He had been loving, adoring, even kind.  The fact that this was not his default behaviour made it a rare gift.  In turn, Alastor had been intimate, been close, he’d been almost unguarded with Draco and that was rare for **him** which made it all the more meaningful.  He’d been angered by Draco too but he realised that showed the depth of emotion he had for him. 

He smiled as he watched him sleeping and wondered just how he had found himself in this crazy situation.   _‘Good night, boyfriend.’_   Draco had said before they went to sleep.  

Alastor had a boyfriend now.  Draco Malfoy.  Draco Malfoy was Alastor's boyfriend.  No one would believe it!  Alastor mused over the idea in his head. 

Why shouldn’t he have a boyfriend?  He’d had partners before after all, although not for a long time admittedly.  But still, why not?  Why shouldn't he have someone if he could only be brave enough to let himself? 

He thought over and over the situation for some time before, eventually, his tired brain allowed him to fall back to sleep. 

He awoke before Draco in the morning and he experienced a warm rush of emotion as he felt Draco, who was curled up under his arm, head on his chest, snuggle in closer and wrap his arm around Alastor's broad waist. 

Alastor flinched a little as Draco touched his stomach.  Partly because he was unaccustomed to being touched at all, and partly because he was less toned than he once had been and felt a flicker of self consciousness again.  But Draco didn’t seem to mind.  Alastor felt Draco's mouth curl into a smile.  The boy was awake. 

‘Morning.’  Alastor said staunchly. 

‘Morning’ Draco said sounding sleepy but playful.  ‘Did you sleep well?’ 

‘Reasonably.’  Alastor replied.  ‘You seemed to.’  He noted.

‘I liked sleeping beside you.’  Draco said happily without even opening his eyes. 

Suddenly he did open them and he sat up. 

‘Oh Gods!  I wasn’t snoring was I?’  He asked. 

‘A little.’  Alastor told him. 

‘Oh no!’  Draco cried.  ‘I thought you only said I did to make me cross!’ 

Alastor chuckled. 

‘Why would I do that?’  He asked.  

‘I don’t know...  to annoy me I guess.’  Draco replied. 

‘We don’t all think like you do.’  Alastor laughed.  ‘I don’t go out of my way to wind people up....  well...  Not often anyway.’ 

Draco laughed. 

‘But I do snore though?’  He asked.  ‘I didn’t know!  That’s awful.’  He frowned sadly. 

‘Oh it’s not so bad.’  Alastor replied.  ‘It's actually quite...  cute.’  He mumbled, embarrassed. 

‘Oh no!’  exclaimed Draco.  ‘It's not very attractive, is it!’ 

Alastor grinned. 

‘I don’t know....’  He replied.  ‘I thought it was quite sweet.’ 

Draco cringed and blushed. 

‘You’re a freak!’  He replied flatly. 

‘Oh so you’ve finished being nice to me now, have you?’  Alastor asked. 

‘Oh I don’t know...’  Draco smiled as he cuddled up to Alastor again who instinctively hugged him back.  ‘I could be nice again...  if you want...’ 

As Draco spoke he worked his hand lower and lower towards Alastor's crotch. 

Alastor had woken up with an erection.  It wasn’t unusual for that to happen.  Usually a bracing cold shower was enough to sort it out or, very occasionally, he would indulge himself.  Tugging himself off roughly beneath the blankets in an almost purely functional fashion.   This morning he had had the vague notion that his erection might just have a more pleasurable use and he was delighted when Draco reached for his crotch and began first to fondle his balls teasingly.  

‘Mmmmmmmmm.....’  Alastor groaned as Draco gently squeezed his balls in his hand, rolling them around and tugging them.  ‘Are you always this frisky in the mornings?’  He asked gruffly. 

‘Yes.’  Draco replied saucily.  ‘Always.  I’m 18 years old, I can’t help it.’ 

‘Ummmm....’  Alastor tried to focus as Draco's elegant fingers wrapped around the length of his shaft and began to slide up and down the length. 

‘I just want to be nice to you...’  Draco whispered seductively.  ‘I want to be very, very nice to you....’  He said slowly as he moved his whole body lower, pushing the blankets down with him so that he exposed Alastor's cock. 

Draco was quite excited to get a good look at it in daylight.  Alastor had no need to fear that Draco might have been staring at his scarred rather chunky body.  All Draco seemed to want to look at was his rock hard cock.  He was captivated by it.  He gazed longingly at the bulbous head, admired the thickness and girth of the shaft.  Admired the details of the veins that ran the length of it.  He gazed at the ridge beneath the helmet.  He looked longingly at the way the shaft got thicker again right after the ridge.   He smiled, remembering just how good and satisfying this thick chunky cock felt inside him, filling his ass.  However, this morning he wanted it to fill somewhere else.  This morning he wanted it in his mouth. 

Draco moved between Alastor's thighs which he parted readily, sensing from Draco’s flirty eye contact exactly what he was going to do.  He wasn’t going to argue.  It had been a long, long time since anyone had done that!

With a sultry grin Draco moved his mouth close to the head of Alastor's cock.  He took a moment to allow Alastor simply to feel his breath on the sensitive skin of the head, building the anticipation.  Alastor shivered. 

Tongue out, Draco swept over the tip, tasting Alastor's pre come.  He tasted salty and bitter but not unpleasant.  Draco licked at him again and ran his tongue slowly right around the ridge before returning to flick over the sensitive slit over and over.  Alastor moaned with pleasure, Draco sure knew how to tease! 

Extending his prelude to the main event, Draco, cupping Alastor's balls in one hand and holding the base of his cock with the other, began to run his tongue up the full length of the shaft.  Tracing the veins and teasing the most sensitive points, he delighted Alastor who shivered at the intensity. 

Draco wondered how long Alastor would cope with teasing and at last, with a smouldering glance up into Alastor's face, Draco opened his mouth into a wide ‘O’ shape and slowly placed his lips over Alastor's dick.  He began to suck, gently at first and only on the head, slowly building up the suction gradually until last he was sucking hard as if he had a sweet in his mouth. 

‘Mmmmmmmmm....  Gods! That’s good!’  Alastor moaned in a low rasping voice. 

Draco let his suction build to an intensity and he maintained it for a while before lessening it again and beginning to toy once more with the head, flicking the tip of his tongue playfully over the slit. 

‘Merlin's balls!  Your good, boy!’  Alastor managed as Draco’s tormenting grew more and more exquisite. 

Suddenly, perhaps inspired by Alastor's approval, Draco took the whole length of Alastor's cock into his eager mouth at once.  He relaxed his throat and was able to take the lot. 

Alastor had not been expecting this and he cried out in ecstasy as his cock was suddenly emerged in the wet heat of Draco’s mouth and the vice like grip of his throat.  He gripped the bed covers tightly at either side of him as he braced himself, wanting to hold back as long as possible and enjoy this spectacular blow job. 

Draco adjusted his breathing and carefully began to work his head up and down the length of Alastor's cock making the most of his ability to deep throat.  It was a skill he was rather proud of!  Toying with Alastor's balls and pressing gently at the point just behind them, he began to work his head up and down more quickly. 

Alastor felt slightly light headed.  He could have closed his eyes and dissolved into the pleasure of it, only it would be a shame to miss out on the delicious sight of beautiful, angel faced Draco Malfoy sucking his cock like a hungry whore.  Alastor stared, captivated and bewitched.  He couldn’t remember anything ever feeling quite so good.  This was a far cry from his occasional utilitarian morning wank that he allowed himself from time to time.  Quick, functional, simply to serve a purpose...   This was entirely different.   This was pure luxury.   This was the most enthusiastic blow job Alastor had ever experienced.  This was the best, the sexiest ... 

Alastor raised his hips slightly, pressing harder into Draco’s mouth, groaning with pleasure. 

Draco’s hand at the base of Alastor's cock, was wet with saliva.  Draco made no attempt to minimise this knowing that the wetter his mouth was the better it would feel.  As Alastor shifted his hips to thrust deeper into Draco’s mouth, Draco took advantage of this and moved his wet fingers back over Alastor's prenium towards his ass where he teased lightly with his fingertips to gage his response. 

Alastor was a little shocked but the sensation was not unpleasant at all.  Alastor had very rarely pleasured himself in that way, as he always preferred to top, being penetrated wasn’t something he had tended to explore.  However, Draco seemed to know a thing or two about pleasure so Alastor let him continue.  As his cock slid in and out of Draco’s pretty wet mouth he found it hard to imagine that Draco could ever do anything he wouldn’t enjoy!

Draco slipped two fingers slowly into Alastor's ass and began to work them gently back and forth. 

‘Oh....  fuck.....’  Alastor gasped huskily as the combined stimulation of his cock and his ass swallowed him up in a wave of ecstasy. 

Skilfully, Draco located Alastor's prostate and began to massage the little bundle of nerves with his fingertips.  Alastor nearly lost his mind!  This was sensational! 

Whoever would have guessed The Brat would be so skilled when it came to eating dick?  And was it even more appealing knowing that it was the son of two death eaters who was so keenly sucking him off?  Did it add a touch if kink that Alastor had personally put Draco’s parents in prison and now their son was performing sex acts on him the likes of which no one had ever done to him before?  Yes, Alastor admitted to himself.   It did add a certain perverse thrill. 

He wanted this to last for as long as possible, however with a well timed glance up into Alastor's face with sultry eyes, Draco forced from Alastor what was possibly the most intense orgasm of his life.  With a rasping cry he came hard into Draco's mouth, his come shooting down his throat.  

Shocked from the thrill and trembling slightly, Alastor was panting for breath huskily as Draco sat up and with a saucy glint in his eye, licked a small trickle of come from his lips.  Alastor stared at him, shaking his head. 

‘Fuck, Malfoy, you’re dirty, aren’t you!’  He managed at last. 

Draco nodded. 

‘That’s so hot!’  Alastor exclaimed as he reached for Draco’s hands and pulled him close to him, hugging him tightly against his body.   He didn’t want to let this one get away!  Not after that little performance! 

Draco smiled as Alastor held him although he regretted being so quick!  There were so many more things he could have done to please Alastor, to win him over thoroughly...  Although the little he had done seemed to have done the job. 

‘Where does a nice boy like you learn tricks like that?’  Alastor asked him at last. 

‘Whoever said I was a nice boy...?’  Draco replied playfully.  ‘I thought you all had me down as nasty little bad boy.’ 

‘Put it this way, I’m not sure your father would approve of you knowing such things!’  Alastor commented. 

‘He doesn’t approve of me, full stop.’  Draco confirmed.  ‘If I was a sadistic murderer he’d be proud as hell...  but because I’m a stylish but effeminate cock sucker...  I’m his life’s biggest disappointment.’  Draco said dryly.   ‘It used to devastate me you know, that I disappointed him.  But now I take pride in it, and anything he would hate me to do I want to do all the more.  Sucking Auror cock has gotta be right at the top of the list.’ 

Behind Draco’s jaded smuttiness there was a sadness in what he said and Alastor felt sympathy for him as he imagined just what growing up with Lucius Malfoy for a father must have been like.  He squeezed Draco affectionately and gently kissed the top of his blond head.

‘Well you just let me know any time you want to practice being a rebellious son!’  He grinned. 

Draco laughed and blushed a little. 

‘Oh I will do!’  He replied.  ‘I think I’ll need lots and lots of practice!’ 

Both Draco and Alastor were rather slower than usual as they got up and dressed and prepared to leave the hut.  Both of them secretly wishing they didn’t have to leave at all.   This hut was well equipped and really quite pleasant.   It would have been a perfect place to stay for a good few days.  They could simply relax, enjoy each other, get to know each other better.  Now that it seemed they really were in a relationship, it would have been nice to have the time to consolidate and explore this without having to rush off to the next location and think about the impending danger they faced. 

However, Alastor was always focused on his duty and it was his duty to get Draco to a place of safety.  This was something he desperately wanted to do.  The closer he grew to his charge the more he worried about the potential danger he was in.  If this battle really was looming he would feel a million times better knowing that Draco was somewhere safe and secure and away from threat and violence. 

They left their little love nest with a sad glance between them wordlessly expressing their feelings. 

Draco walked close to Alastor.   The day was cold and overcast, not clear and sunny like the day before.  The snow, which had been deep was now a little patchy.  They trudged on in silence although today it wasn’t awkward.  It was relaxed, easy, peaceful.  Draco reached over at one point and took hold of Alastor's hand, he smiled when Alastor accommodated his silent request and held his hands as they walked.

Even without lots of conversation, the atmosphere between them was so different now.  There was a niceness to it.  There were even moments when it was almost possible to forget just why they were walking through the forest on a cold winters day at all. 

Sometimes they held hands sometimes they did not.  Sometimes, when the path was wide and clear, Draco wondered around a bit, looking at things:  Details of the trees, the first snow drops appearing, animal tracks in the snow.  Alastor watched him, touched by his childlike curiosity, wondering if he had ever been encouraged or even allowed to look at things like this when he was growing up. 

Draco seemed to sense Alastor watching him and he turned and flashed him a playful smile. 

‘Come here.’ Alastor instructed gruffly. 

Draco frowned but did as he was told and walked over to Alastor wondering what he wanted.  The second he reached him his question was answered as without a word, Alastor took hold of him, pushed him up against a tree and kissed him for all he was worth. 

Draco’s soft lips yielded under Alastor's rough ones and he opened his mouth surrendering completely, letting Alastor claim him.  His hands gripped Alastor's strong back and he held him tightly until Alastor gently pulled away and moved back. 

‘Is that it?’  Draco asked a little confused. 

‘For now.’  Alastor replied.  ‘I just wanted to kiss you.’ 

‘Why?’  Draco asked impetuously.  

‘Because I can.’ Alastor said as he began to walk on. 

‘OK.   Any time.’  Draco smiled dryly. 

They walked a little further on.  Draco smiled to himself, satisfied.  Alastor seemed to return his affections.  Alastor was not someone he imagined who would go for public displays of affection so a spontaneous kiss was quite significant!

Draco wondered slightly ahead and Alastor watched him, thinking about just what they were getting themselves into with all this.   He smiled to himself.  It might not be easy, or immediately understandable, but it **was** worth it. 

‘Alastor...?’  Draco asked directly, as they walked.

‘Hummm..?’  Alastor responded. 

‘Can I ask you something personal?’  Draco said slightly cautiously. 

‘You can ask.’  Alastor told him. 

‘Can you...’  Draco began.  ‘Can you actually look through people’s clothes with that eye?’  He asked. 

Alastor laughed a gravelly laugh.  He had been expecting a more serious question!

‘I could.’  He replied honestly.  ‘I can see through lots of things with this, but I have control over it and I don’t go around using it to look through people’s clothes.  I’m a gentleman!’  He concluded. 

‘You weren’t very gentlemanly when we arrived at that hut last night!’  Draco remarked flirtatiously. 

Even in spite of his scars it was clear to see Alastor was blushing. 

‘It's you.’  He replied.  ‘You have an effect on me.’ 

‘Good!’  Draco grinned. 

‘I'm **usually** a gentleman.’  Alastor affirmed. 

‘So you're not looking at me naked, right now.. ?’  Draco asked. 

‘Not right now.’  Alastor told him.  ‘But I can...  if and when I want to.’  Alastor winked. 

Draco laughed and continued walking.

‘Draco...?’  Alastor began. 

‘Yes?’  Draco asked keenly. 

‘If we...  If we carry on doing what we’re doing, after this wretched war is over...’  Alastor began. 

‘Yes?’  Draco prompted.  

‘Well...  I suppose there will come a time when...  When I will have to...  To introduce you to my friends.’  Alastor said. 

Draco thought about this for a second.  He pictured Kingsley and the other Aurors.  That wouldn't be too bad.  Then he wondered if Alastor had other friends and who might they be?  It suddenly seemed quite intimidating. 

‘They won’t like me, will they?’  Draco said flatly.  

‘I'm sure you can be charming when you want to be.’  Alastor said with a smile. 

Draco thought about it. 

‘Do you have lots of friends ?’  He asked. 

‘A few.’  Alastor said.  ‘They’ll like you well enough.  They’ll be surprised, but they’ll like you.’ 

Alastor wasn’t 100% sure of this as he imagined the moment when he would have to introduce his boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, to his close friends, Molly and Arthur Weasley...  There was no denying, it was going to be uncomfortably odd.  Not least because Arthur and Molly had a son Draco’s age!

‘Don’t suppose you’ll want to introduce me to your trendy friends, will you?’  Alastor asked, turning the concept round onto Draco.

‘No.’  Draco replied coolly.  ‘I want to keep you as a dirty, sordid, sexy secret!’  He grinned. 

Alastor eyed him suspiciously.  He was getting better at reading Draco now. 

‘Oh OK!’  Draco snapped.  ‘I don’t really have a lot of friends if I’m honest.  Happy now?’  He asked.  

Alastor looked at him sympathetically.

‘Why is that?’  He asked. 

‘I guess because I was only ever allowed to make friends with my parents friends children.’ 

Draco reflected.  Alastor inspired an honestly in him which shocked him sometimes!  He would never have admitted this to anyone! 

‘Even when I went to Hogwarts I was sorted into Slytherin and if I’d have even tried to make friends with the ' **wrong'** sort, my father would have found out via Crabbe and Goyle senior.’  Draco scowled. 

‘So there’s no one you really get on with?’  Alastor asked earnestly. 

‘I don’t mind Blaise Zabini.  He’s about as shallow as a teaspoon but he’s clever and he’s stylish.  He’s not into dark arts either so he’s OK to talk to...  If you like talking about fashion and money and stuff.  But it’s OK, I can do that.’  Draco said. 

Alastor smiled understandingly. 

‘Gregory Goyle isn’t too bad.  He’s always stuck by me, stood up for me.  He’s not the smartest guy in the world though, but again, not actually evil, despite his family.’ 

There was a pause and Draco looked a little ashamed. 

‘But yeah, I have no one who I’ll be rushing to introduce you to.... but that’s nothing to do with you.  It's simply because no one likes me.’  Draco concluded sadly. 

‘Do you think that could be because you're horrible to everyone?’  Alastor asked flatly.  

‘Probably.’  Draco replied.  ‘But I was horrible to you and you still like me.’  He added. 

‘But you tricked me by having sex with me.’ Alastor joked.

Draco punched him playfully and to his own surprise, Alastor didn’t even flinch.

‘I didn’t trick you!’  Draco said defensively. 

‘OK, you seduced me with your beauty.  You were so irresistible that I forgot how annoying you are.’ Alastor said dryly.

‘Shut up!’  Draco snapped.  ‘Kiss me.’  He insisted with a cross little pout. 

Alastor did as he was told. 

They walked on. 

It was still strange but it was all going bizarrely well and felt oddly natural to be ‘seeing each other,' to be ‘together’ out in the cold light of day. 

It was well after 2pm when they stopped for lunch.   Alastor lowered himself onto a tree stump with a groan.  He watched as Draco, with an equally pained look on his face, moaned a little as he stooped to sit on the ground. 

‘Are you alright son?’  Alastor asked him, resting a hand on Draco’s shoulders and instantly regretting calling Draco ‘son’.  He needed to stop saying that! 

Draco nodded. 

‘I'm OK.’  He smiled.  ‘Just a little bit sore after...  You know...’  Draco blushed. 

‘I hurt you.’  Alastor said ashamed of himself.  ‘I'm sorry.’ 

‘I'm alright.’  Draco replied casually.   ‘You didn’t really hurt me...  But having all that rough sex the night before a 20 mile walk just isn’t sensible!’ He grinned playfully. 

Alastor smiled at him. 

‘I'm still sorry if I hurt you.’  He said softly. 

‘It's really fine.’  Draco said and he reached up and kissed Alastor's face tenderly.  ‘Please don’t stop being rough with me from time to time!  I rather enjoy it.’ 

Alastor laughed. 

‘I got the feeling you did!’  He replied. 

‘But maybe not when we have a whole lot of walking to do.’  Draco concluded. 

Alastor opened the bag and handed Draco a tin mug into which he poured some soup from a flask.  Draco thanked him. 

‘Is there much further to go today?’  Draco asked casually, off the back of their previous conversation. 

‘Not too far.’  Alastor replied and instantly felt bad for not being more specific as it was entirely his fault that Draco was aching and struggling to walk.  ‘We’re over half way, it’s about 5 miles now.’ 

Draco nodded acceptingly.  

‘I know you can’t tell me.’  He said softly.  ‘I wasn’t going to ask...  Only...  Well, if I know...  It’s easier if I know.  Then I know how much more I have to do.’ 

Alastor was torn.  It was only the coordinates for the next hut, not for the safe house in Dove Town.  It couldn’t do any harm to tell him the coordinates to an empty hut to help poor Draco.  He sighed and leant in close to Draco’s ear.  He whispered the coordinates huskily. 

‘About 5 miles.’  Alastor reaffirmed. 

Draco smiled. 

‘You didn’t have to tell me.’  He said. 

‘I know.’ Alastor replied.  ‘But I did tell you.  Now that **is** serious misconduct!  That would shock people.’ 

‘But it’s just an empty hut!’  Draco exclaimed.  ‘Does the ministry really not trust me at all?’ 

‘No.’  Alastor said honestly.  ‘But I wouldn’t take it too personally.  The ministry can’t afford to trust anyone right now.’ 

Draco nodded. 

‘I'm glad **you** trust me, just a tiny bit.’  He whispered, stroking Alastor's leg affectionately.  ‘I know I’m a little brat, but I’m not a bad person, deep down.’ 

Alastor laughed. 

‘I know.’  He replied. 

They finished their food in silence, Draco smiling a very satisfied smile.  Everything was going so well. 

It was fortunate they stopped when they did as the weather seemed to get worse into the afternoon.  By four pm it was as dark as night and the forest no longer felt like a pretty, sparkly winter wonderland.  It felt sinister and threatening and every noise made both of them jump and reach for their wands. 

Alastor thought how glad he would be to reach the shelter this evening.  Something about the forest didn’t feel quite right.  Years of service as an Auror had made Alastor very able to tune in to potential danger, had honed a kind of sixth sense which meant he could almost smell threat in the air.  The forest was not right.   It had been fine in the morning, but something had changed. 

Draco could feel it too.   Less trained to pick up these things than Alastor was, Draco just knew he felt afraid and he walked as close to Alastor as possible.  Alastor was glad Draco was keeping close to him.   It would be so good to get to the safety of the hut.  Then they could relax a little and continue getting to know each other.  It was all going well and Alastor was curious to know what would happen next between them.  Finding out about Draco was far more enjoyable than he might have anticipated...   But they needed to be out of the forest in order to feel safe.  As soon as possible.

There was a loud snap from just behind them and they both jumped round, instantly drawing their wands.  Breath fast and sharp, they stared back into the forest, eyes peering into the gloom looking between the trees for a sign as to what has caused the branch to snap.  They could see nothing. 

'Come on.'  Alastor prompted hurriedly.  'Let's get out of here.' 

Draco agreed, his heart racing.  This was the first time he had given any real thought to the actual danger they were in.  Until now he had just considered that it was the Aurors job to look after him and he had given little thought to the reality of what might happen if they were attacked.  And of course it was all the more complicated now that it wasn't simply 'the Auror' looking after him.  It was Alastor.  It was his lover.  If they were attacked Draco didn't know whether he would jump behind Alastor for protection or jump in front of him to protect him!  They might have laughed at the ministry's warnings about misconduct, but emotional involvement between them certainly made the situation a lot more complicated. 

They turned and began to walk again and had not gone two paces forward when they heard a creak and a rustle of leaves which made them jump around again, wands ready, adrenalin pumping. 

An owl swooped past them with a loud screech. 

Alastor cursed. 

'Let's go.'  He encouraged Draco again, touching his arm reassuringly. 

Draco felt momentarily comforted, but the second he turned around his heart froze. 

Standing right before them in the centre of the path, inches away from them, was the largest werewolf Draco had ever seen.  He had seen a couple before, one time when Aunty Bella had taken him to watch a pack attack a muggle family who were camping in the woods.  It was her idea of a fun activity for the 5 year old Draco who had fought back tears as he watched the family screaming, sobbing and pleading for help or mercy as they were each torn limb from limb.  Draco had been terrified of wolves since that day. 

He was paralysed with fear.  He stood as frozen to the spot as one of the trees around them.  He could practically hear his own heart beat and he could smell the beast's fowl breath as it snorted aggressively, curls of rancid steam rising from its nostrils.  It's violent yellow eyes glared at them and suddenly it raised its head and let out a bloodcurdling howl. 

Alastor was fast.  He had dealt with worse than werewolves in the past and he was about to cast a stunning spell on the creature when it raised its front paw and swiped not at him, but at Draco. 

Draco was knocked onto his back in the snow and for a second he looked up at the branches above him a little disorientated.  He heard a spell being cast, saw a flash of light and heard an animal whimper as it hit a tree.  Draco scrabbled to his feet.  Had his Auror boyfriend saved the day? 

Alastor had indeed attacked the wolf but to Draco's horror, as he scrambled back onto his feet he noticed more and more yellow eyes appearing from out of the darkness.  This wasn't just one lone wolf, this was a whole pack! 

A wolf leapt at Alastor.  In a flash, Draco had blasted it away before it could touch him.  But another came, and another.  They were coming from all around them and now everything was moving so fast it was hard for Draco to follow what was happening.  It was all becoming a blur. 

Draco kept dodging, side stepping  and moving back to avoid attacks.  The gap between him and Alastor was growing.  The wolves were now between them and were keeping Alastor busy with their attacks. 

Draco realised far too late that this had been their plan all along.  This was no random attack.  This was purposeful, premeditated, planned.  The aim had been to  separate them and they had managed spectacularly.  The huge wolf, that must have been Greyback, Draco realised in terror.  Now in order to stay alive, he had no choice but to walk straight into their trap and to run.  To run away from Alastor, away from safety.  To run for his life. 

Draco could run.  He'd always been a good runner.  It had been one of his best survival techniques when he was a child.  He was slim, fast and light on his feet.  He wove quickly through the trees and it wasn't long before he realised he could no longer hear the wolves.  They had stopped chasing him. 

Of course they had stopped chasing him.  They had never been meant to catch him! 

Draco shook with fear.  He saw a large dead tree looming ahead of him in the darkness.  Trembling like a leaf he crept up to it and crouched down amongst the roots for some kind of shelter.  He knew what was going to happen next.  All he could do was wait. 

He didn't have to wait long.  In less than 5 minutes there was a loud snap and three dark figures appeared a few paces away. 

Draco swallowed hard. 

'I'm over here.'  He called in a whisper into the darkness. 

The three figures approached.  Two of them wore masks, one did not. 

'Draco.'  A cold and cruel female voice spoke his name.  'At last we've found you, my poor baby nephew!'   

 


	9. Espionage

 

'What do we do with 'im now?'  One of the men grunted as they dragged Draco to his feet. 

'We take him to the Dark Lord, of course!'  Bellatrix hissed in an aggressive whisper. 

A second man jabbed Draco in the back with his wand. 

'Come on then kid.  Get a move on!' 

'Is there any need to point your wand at me?'  Draco asked in a clear and impetuous tone. 

The man looked cross for a moment and then he laughed. 

'Like father, like son, eh?  Listen boy, don't you start thinking you can give the orders around here, just because your stuck up father used to!  I think you'll find your family is far from favour with the Dark Lord these days!' 

Bellatrix was about to respond when Draco jumped in ahead of her. 

'For Merlin's sake keep your voice down!'  He snapped crossly at the man, mere inches from his face.  'This forest is crawling with Aurors!  Do you want them to find us?'  He asked confrontationally. 

Bellatrix smiled a satisfied smile, gloating at her companions.  She glared at the second man who lowered his wand at once.  Bellatrix took Draco's arm. 

'We'll see how much the Dark Lord favours my family!'  Bellatrix retorted proudly.

Together all three of them grabbed hold of Draco and in a split second he was apparted away. 

                                           *                                           *                                       *

Draco was nervous.  In fact it was fair to say he was terrified.  All of his life he’d been told about this moment, that one day it would arrive.  It was a great honour.  It was the highest extent of his Malfoy privilege.  To be presented to the Dark Lord.  To meet him in person, to talk to him face to face.  Draco shook with anticipation. 

Of course, it was supposed to be his father who presented him, but things had not transpired that way.  His aunt could do it instead. 

The two men who were with her seemed intent on treating Draco like a prisoner, although Draco was equally determined not to behave like one. 

‘He can’t go in there in those scruffy clothes!’  One of them remarked looking in disgust at the dirty coat he was wearing and the rather tatty sweater underneath. 

‘Then allow me to remove the worst of them.’  Draco said haughtily stepping back from the man who had spoken for fear he might have tried to remove some of the clothes himself. 

Draco took off the coat and then removed the tatty sweater.  It was far too big for him anyway.  He flung it contemptuously onto the floor. 

‘It belonged to that foul Auror.’  Draco hissed hateful.   ‘You have no idea how glad I am to take it off!’ 

Draco was glad.  The sweater smelt liked Alastor.  It looked like him, rough, worn but comforting.  The wool was coarse and scratchy like Alastor's gnarled hands.   Draco’s mind cleared a little and he focused now that he was free of it. 

Dressed in his low cut leather jeans and a black top, long and flowing at the back, but at the front short enough to reveal an inch or so of his taught abdomen and his defined hip bones.  He kicked off his filthy shoes.  Somehow being bare foot helped to ground him. 

Draco flicked his hair back and looked down his nose at the two men who were guarding him.   

‘Take me to him.’  Draco said coldly.  ‘I will speak to him directly, there is nothing I have to say to the likes of you.’ 

Bellatrix smiled a proud, sneering smile.  She had always hoped he nephew would turn out well. 

‘This way.’  She said. 

She led the way through a large set of double doors into a rather ostentatious room, not unlike a smaller version of the great Hall at Hogwarts, Draco observed.  Bellatrix prompted Draco and his guards to stop once they were a few paces into the space and she alone approached the Dark Lord. 

Draco watched, taking in every detail he could, mapping the scene in his mind.  The Dark Lord sat on a throne like chair, elevated on a platform at the far end of the room.  Death eaters stood down each side of the room like guards or attendants at court.  There must have been more than 20 of them there.  The scene was ridiculously formal and very telling about how the Dark Lord saw himself, Draco noted. 

Bellatrix stood a few paces before the platform and made a bow although she maintained a level of eye contact which the other death eaters would not have dared to.  It was quite flirtatious and far from appropriate. 

‘My lord.’  She began in a haughty voice.  ‘I wish to present to you my nephew, Draco Malfoy.  He wishes to be in your service.’  She smiled. 

Voldemort looked down at her, his piercing eyes still and cold, his body language relaxed to the point of apathy. 

‘Indeed...’  He drawled, his voice icy and impassive.   He glanced up towards Draco and looked him up and down.  ‘Lucius’s son...  I wonder if he’ll be any more use than his father...?’ 

Several of the death eaters laughed, probably because they knew they were supposed to.  Bellatrix looked unphased. 

‘Bring him forward.’  Voldemort commanded sharply.  

Bellatrix stepped back and one of Draco’s guards jabbed him to move forward. 

Draco walked several paces but before he reached the point where his aunt had paused, he stopped and dropped to his knees. 

‘My lord!’  He exclaimed in a rapturous voice.  ‘My lord, I am your servant!  It is such an honour to be in your presence!’ 

He then flung himself forward so that he was face down on the floor his arms out in front of him in a position of worship-like subservience. 

Voldemort smiled although Draco couldn’t see it.  He liked this sort of behaviour.  Lucius was rarely so cowering, he was always too proud.  Wormtail always behaved his way, but it was a lot more appealing from the Malfoy boy! 

‘Come closer.’  He commanded.  

Instead of rising and walking towards him, Draco lifted himself only to his hands and knees.  With a gaze far more bewitching that his aunts, he held eye contact with the Dark Lord and crawled very slowly towards the platform.  He moved his body like a snake, sensual and flowing, biting his lips, an expression on his face which bordered on obscene. 

Voldemort held his eye contact, scrutinising him.  His eyes roamed over the boys well formed slender body as he paused at the platform on which he sat. 

‘Such an honour!’  Draco whispered again in breathless awe as he glanced up at the imposing figure of the Dark Lord. 

‘Of course.’  Voldemort smiled a sickly smile at the grovelling boy. 

‘I must thank you for your kindness my lord.’  Draco continued in a voice dripping with admiration.  

‘For what do you thank me?’  Voldemort asked. 

‘For sending your troops to rescue me from the Ministry.’  Draco replied.  ‘They took me into custody when my parents were arrested.’  Draco said with shame and malice in his voice.  ‘They have kept me under guard by the Aurors ever since.  But now I’m free and finally able to come to you....’  He concluded seductively. 

Voldemort smiled showing his blackened teeth. 

‘I had wondered if you were with them by choice....’  He quizzed. 

‘No my lord!’  Draco exclaimed passionately and pleadingly.   ‘They took me into custody against my will...  I’m so grateful to you for saving me my lord.  It’s more than I deserve.  I’m not worthy of you my lord...’  Draco whispered.  ‘Not fit to kiss the ground beneath your feet....’ 

‘But you may...’  Voldemort grinned a sinister grin and gestured for Draco to approach. 

Still on his hands and knees Draco crawled to Voldemort’s feet.   Lips parted, he glanced up at him for a second before pouting his lips and lowering his face to the floor and kissing the stone. 

‘Thank you, my lord.’  Draco said softly. 

‘I like you, Draco Malfoy.’  Voldemort whispered in a sinister snake like hiss.  He extended one foot towards Draco.  

He wore no shoes, the soles of his feet were hard like leather, his toe nails were dark and chipped. 

Adoringly, Draco reached out and took hold of Voldemort’s foot with his soft little hands. 

He slowly pressed his lips onto the top of Voldemort’s foot while cradling the arch and caressing the Achilles tendon.  He moved his lips slowly around to the ankle bone, kissing, sucking gently at Voldemort’s cold greying flesh. 

Voldemort drew a rasping breath as Draco’s touch surprised him:  The time he took lingering over each kiss, the secret flick of his tongue over the sensitive points at the back of the ankle. Voldemort shifted in his chair and smiled a perverse smile as he watched the pretty boy kissing his feet far more thoroughly and sensuously than he had expected. 

However, Bellatrix's smile was fading.  Draco was supposed to win favour, but not like this. 

Before he finished Draco traced his kisses just a little higher than the ankle, just to leave the suggestion that he would go further....  If he were afforded such a great honour, of course. 

Voldemort smiled with satisfaction.  This boy was nothing like his father.  He’d be useful in different ways  and he would certainly be amusing. 

‘My death eaters found you alone.’  Voldemort asked, composing himself.  ‘How did you escape the Aurors, Draco?’ 

‘I was placed under the guard of just one Auror.’  Draco spoke clearly now that he was back on his knees.  ‘I was guarded by Auror Moody.’ 

Draco paused here, observing the response.   A whisper ran around the death eaters.   Alastor was responsible for the imprisonment of many of their colleagues and his name was known and hated.  

‘How did you escape him?’ Voldemort asked curiously.

‘Once the werewolves attacked it wasn’t too difficult to become separated.’ Draco replied casually with a flick of his hair and a devious twinkle in his eyes.  

‘You weren’t bound or restrained in any way?’  Voldemort pressed. 

‘I'm no fool.’  Draco said, his voice suddenly becoming colder and more assertive.  ‘Once the Ministry took me and I realised I couldn’t escape them, I played along.  Oh, I wasn’t nice, or even particularly biddable but I was ultimately compliant.  I was rude, disagreeable and everything else those prejudice old fools expected me to be on account of my name, but I played along so that they thought I was there willingly.’ 

Voldemort looked interested now, a different type of interest from a moment ago. 

There was interest and whispers from around the room too.  Draco paused to show he had noticed them and then turned back to Voldemort as though he spoke only to him. 

‘But being placed with that Auror certainly made things difficult.’  Draco continued.  He said the words ‘that Auror’ with a malice and venom which echoed the sentiments of the room. 

‘Yes....’  Voldemort hissed.  ‘He has caused us considerable trouble over the years.’ 

‘He’s the most vigilance and guarded man!’  Draco exclaimed vehemently.  ‘I can’t tell you...’  He began angrily, his face flushing with shame.  ‘I can’t tell you my lord...’  His eyes filled with angry tears  ‘The things I had to do....  To trick him into trusting me...’  He words faltered with disgust and emotion.  ‘The depths I had to sink to....’ 

Draco stared up at Voldemort his eyes wide with fear and shame as though he were confessing to a priest and was seeking redemption from him. 

Voldemort’s eyes widened with curiosity and surprise as the meaning behind Draco’s words sunk in.  A sadistic smile spread across his thin lips and at last he broke into a cold cruel laugh as though the confession and the idea was an amusing revelation to him. 

‘So....’  He hissed with a grin.  ‘The great Auror Moody has a weakness after all!  A weakness for teenage boys!’ 

He laughed out loud and many in the room did the same, this time because they were genuinely amused. 

Draco hung his head in shame, tears running down his cheeks. 

‘He had no affection for me....’  He said softly ‘ But he couldn’t fight his lust.’  He almost sobbed. 

‘Oh that’s almost perfect!’  The Dark Lord laughed again.   ‘The brave soldier!  The 'good man'...  Secretly a lust driven pervert!  It’s too delicious!  One day Malfoy, you will recount every detail for my amusement.’ 

Many of the death eaters roared with laughter and Draco nodded, tears running down his face. 

‘I had no choice my lord!’  Draco sobbed.  ‘I hated it, every moment of it.  He was cruel, he hurt me on purpose...  He’s no 'good man', my lord...’  Draco managed through his tears.  ‘But I had to let him...’ 

Draco paused and wiped away his tears.  Voldemort was hanging on his every word.  Draco had felt his interest increase when he heard that Auror Moody had hurt him.  Draco could tell he would love to hear about that!  But there were more important things to tell him.  So Draco dried his eyes and tried to regain some dignity. 

‘I had to let him.  I had to make him think I wanted him.  It wasn’t easy, and he wasn’t easy to convince but it was the only way.’ 

‘The only way...?’  Voldemort echoed curiously. 

‘To get him to let his guard down, to think he could trust me.’  Draco replied his eyes narrowing into thin devious slits.  ‘Pillow talk is a very effective technique for finding out information.’  Draco smiled and evil smile. 

Now he had Voldemort’s attention for more than just sadistic perverse reasons.  The Dark Lord sat up and stared at him. 

‘Information?’  He asked. 

‘I could hardly come before you and offer you nothing, my lord!’  Draco exclaimed passionately.  ‘From the minute they took me I made it my business to find out as much as possible. Eternally living in the hope that you would rescue me some day.  And, that when you did, I might be able to be of some small use to you.’  Draco said softly forming each word in a purposeful and seductive voice. 

Voldemort smiled again and reached out his hand to Draco. 

‘Come closer to me...’  He hissed taking hold of Draco’s trembling hand and bringing him to his lap where he petted his hair. 

Draco looked at him as though he were being touched by a God, as though it were the greatest moment of his life. 

‘Tell me, my poor degraded little pet....’  Voldemort began with a cruel grin.  ‘What information do you have for your master?’ 

Draco gazed at Voldemort adoringly, looking longingly into his cold, red eyes. 

‘I know what they are doing with the children you’ve been looking for.’  He said softly.  ‘They are taking them all to a safe house at a secret location.  It’s the same place they were taking me.’ 

Voldemort was paying full attention now. 

‘The children were taken there under escorts by Aurors but once they got there, only two regular officers were going to guard them.  If the house could be found they would be very, very vulnerable.’  Draco continued. 

‘And do you know where the house is?’  Voldemort asked, coaxing his new pet. 

‘The coordinates were considered top secret confidential information, so much so that they actually made us walk, like **muggles** , for Merlin sake!  However....’  Draco grinned.  ‘It's amazing what people will tell you when they drop their guard, when they think you like them.’  His grey eyes glistened deviously.  

Voldemort looked genuinely impressed for a second and Draco beamed.

‘I can tell you the coordinates of the safe house and I can tell you that within it you will find all of the children you are seeking.  I can tell you that you will find them being guarded by only two guards although I can warn you that it is highly likely that Auror Moody will be there too.  He will be under the delusion that I will have made my way there in order to meet with him!’ 

Draco laughed a cold and calculating laugh which Voldemort echoed. 

‘However....’  Draco continued ‘If you were to send nine or ten of your best death eaters to the coordinates they would be more than able to overpower the guards and the Auror, as well as capture the children.’  Draco drawled slickly, making the most of the fact that Voldemort had not yet let go of his hand.  He caressed him adoringly, pressing his thumb into the centre of Voldemort’s palm as he sweetly whispered his wicked plan. 

Voldemort smiled at him, a sickly unpleasant grin. 

‘Well done, Draco.’  He hissed softly stroking Draco’s face.  ‘If only you weren’t damaged goods I might have been tempted to fuck you myself.’  He announced to the room. 

There was laughter, although not from Bellatrix. 

Draco looked devastated.

‘Oh but don’t worry my little pet!’  Voldemort continue noticing the look of horror on Draco’s face.  ‘We’ll see how your little plan works out and if it’s successful.... Well... I might just be kind enough to fuck the very memory of that old bastard out of you.’ 

Draco sobbed helplessly into Voldemort’s lap and Voldemort laughed as he ran his icy fingers over Draco’s neck teasingly. 

‘Fear not.’  Voldemort grinned.  ‘You’ll find I’m a very generous master, and I shall reward you for your information.’  He whispered silkily. 

‘Please my lord...’  Draco sobbed.  ‘I ask for no reward.  To serve you is reward enough, but if, in you generosity, you would allow me clean clothes and the chance to bathe it would be so appreciated.’  He begged. 

Voldemort laughed. 

‘Yes of course, you filthy little tramp!  You may go and try and scrub the stench of that filthy old cripple off yourself!’  He delighted in Draco’s distress and embarrassment.  Then he added in a sickly tone that bordered on a perverse affection.  ‘One of my attendants will show you where to find clean robes.’ 

‘Thank you, thank you my lord!’  Draco exclaimed breathlessly. 

‘Wormtail!’  Voldemort barked.  ‘Take my little pet to the best guest bathroom and find him some clothes.  Nice clothes, Wormtail!’  He insisted.  ‘I like my pets well groomed.’  He laughed.

Wormtail stepped forward and grabbed Draco by the shoulder.  Draco glanced at him.  He was far from well groomed.  He was clearly not considered a pet. 

‘Thank you my lord....’  Draco uttered over and over again as Wormtail dragged him from the room. 

He led Draco up a flight of stairs to a large bathroom where he somewhat unceremoniously thrust a pile of towels into Draco's hands. 

‘There’s a wardrobe in the dressing room’  Wormtail barked.  ‘You can find yourself some robes in there.’ 

Draco glared at him to acknowledge his words.  He did not say thank you.  He was a Malfoy after all and he did not need to thank a servant! 

Wormtail sneered at him.   However subservient the Brat appeared in front of the Dark Lord, he was clearly as arrogant as his father when the Dark Lords back was turned.  Wormtail was glad to leave him, slamming the bathroom door as he left. 

The second he was alone, Draco leapt on the door, sliding the huge bolt across securing the room.  He flopped against the door breathing heavily for a second. 

Gathering his thoughts he pushed himself upright and ran to the inner room where the bath and shower were located.  It took all of his strength to turn the old taps and start the water running.  It rushed loudly into the huge bathtub.  Draco reached for the shower and turned that on too.  The water rushed forth like heavy rain into the water in the tub. 

Draco nodded slightly manically.  The more noise the water made, the better.  The more noise, the more cover he had!

A frantic look of desperation in his eyes he reached for his wand and held it aloft.  He drew a deep breath, shaking as he attempted to cast a spell he had only ever heard of before.  One that was not routinely taught at Hogwarts.  One he had never attempted.  One it was now imperative that he get right.


	10. The Sting Of Betrayal.

 

'Draco!'  Alastor's voice echoed through the darkness.  'Draco!  Where are you?' 

Alastor waited.  He'd been out there for hours now, calling, searching, desperate to find his missing charge...  His missing lover.    

'Draco!'  He called again and then listened hard for any sound, any sign of where the boy could be.  He heard nothing.  The forest was more silent than ever. 

It was gone 1am.  Once he had fought off the werewolves, Alastor had gone directly to the hut, hoping that, by some miracle, Draco would have arrived there safely and would be waiting for him.  However, he was not entirely surprised when the place was deserted.  It had been too much to hope for really, that Draco might have arrived there on his own and that everything would have been alright so simply and easily.  The best he could hope for now was that Draco was somewhere nearby, hiding in the woods.  He hoped that he had found a place to shelter, had escaped the wolves and hidden himself away and waited for someone to find him...

Alastor's heart had frozen as the thought crossed his mind... 'for **someone** to find him...' 

Suddenly Alastor had realised what had actually happened that evening.  The werewolves, they had no intention of killing Draco!  They hadn't really bothered to try to kill him!  In fact, once Draco had been chased away, the pack had soon lost interest in attacking Alastor and had disappeared back into the trees.  Then Alastor had another horrifying realisation...  Draco hadn't simply been chased away, he had been **herded** away.  It had been tactical.  They had been separated purposefully.  That had been the point of the attack, not to kill or injure them, simply to separate them. 

Somebody had wanted to get Draco away from him, and what was worse, they had succeeded.  Now, after hours of scouring the forest, Alastor could find no trace of the boy, which could only mean:  Someone else had been looking for Draco too, and what was more, they must have found him.  Found him, and taken him away. 

Alastor felt sick.  Sick, conflicted and powerless.  He felt a bizarre instinct to scream, to shout, to call out for help.  It was as if he wanted to beg out loud to nameless deities to help him in his hour of need.  He resisted the urge, after all there was no point.  There was no god he even believed in that he could pray to.  Praying wasn't going to get Draco back.  Only he could do that, and he had tried searching for him, for hours.  In vain. 

Praying wouldn't help find him, Alastor lamented as, defeated, he slowly made his way back towards the hut.  He would return there, gather his things and go for help.  Yes.  That was what he would do. 

The death eaters were certainly behind Draco's capture and if Alastor went for back up, they could work on finding out just where they might have taken Draco, and then they could free him. 

Alastor's stomach twisted with nausea and fear as he pictured the danger that Draco might be in.  What would those monsters be doing to him?  Alastor knew what they were capable of.  He quickened his pace, he started to run.  He also started praying again.  It might not help find Draco, but perhaps it would help keep him safe.  Horrific visions flashed through Alastor's mind as he pictured, without wanting to, all of the dreadful things Voldemort and his death eaters could be doing to poor, innocent Draco.  The torture, the cruelty they could subject him to!  Alastor prayed harder.  Please, by the time he found him, please Gods let it be the same Draco that had been taken away from him.

He ran back to the hut and scrabbled around to pull his things together, ready to take the risk of apparation back to the ministry to get help before it was too late.

What would Fudge say? 

What **would** Fudge say?  He would ask how it happened, that's for sure. He would want to know how the mission had been going up to the point when they were attacked.  Alastor was not sure he could tell Fudge all the details about that!  He would want to know **how** had they been attacked?  How had Draco behaved in the run up to the attack?  What did he do when the attack happened? 

Alastor froze once again. 

Fudge would want to know if Draco had given any sign that the attack was pre-planned, that is was known to him?  He would ask Alastor if Draco had seemed complicit to being taken away.  In short: He would ask, he would suggest, he would imply, that Draco may have been in league with the death eaters all this time!  He would ask Alastor to consider whether he thought this could be the case. 

No!  Alastor thought to himself, throwing down his bags, cross as the very suggestion.  Of course Draco hadn't known about it!  That was ridiculous. 

But Fudge would ask him to think about it.  He would ask him to think back over the days they had spent together.  He would ask Alastor to describe how Draco had behaved, how they had interacted.  He would want to know all about any changes in Draco's behaviour that Alastor might have observed.  Suddenly Alastor felt a deep, sinister chill sweep over him. 

The ministry had known that Draco was dangerous.  They had feared from the outset that Draco may have been a decoy, a double agent or a spy.  That was why he had been placed with Alastor.  That was the reason why Draco had been placed with the most vigilant and experienced Auror they had.  The ministry wanted Draco watched, watched closely by someone who was in no danger of falling for any of his tricks.  And what did they imagine Draco's tricks would be?  He certainly made no effort to endear people to him from the off set, did he...?  No, of course he didn't.  He was far too clever for that!  Draco Malfoy would play the long game, wouldn't he?  Coming across too nice at first would have never been convincing, but giving the impression that trust and intimacy was building up gradually...  That would be an excellent way to trick someone, wouldn't it? 

Alastor felt his chest tighten.  Was that what had happened?  Had Draco tricked him?  His behaviour had changed over time, hadn't it?  On the first day he had planted the seed of the idea that he hated his parents and his upbringing;  Later that evening he had set the table and tried to be civil over dinner...  It was as if he had tried different tactics to win Alastor round...  He had tried the massage too, and when Alastor over-reacted, that was when Draco had played his trump card.  He started flirting.  When Alastor was clearly embarrassed and flattered, Draco had known the way to play to win him over. 

Alastor sat down.  In fact, there was no chair there, so it was more of a fall, on to the hard wooden floor.  He felt like he couldn't breathe. 

Had Draco  tricked him?  Had he?  Had Alastor been so stupid as to let himself fall into the trap he was purposefully set to avoid?  How could he ever face the Minister or his colleagues again?

It hurt.  It hurt so much it wasn't unlike a torture curse.  Alastor's head was swimming and his eyes were blurry with tears of anger, frustration, confusion and rage.  He didn't know how he was supposed to feel.  He was, on one hand, terrified for the danger that Draco might be in, unable to stand the thought of the boy being hurt.  On the other hand, if his doubts, if his fears were correct...  If Draco had betrayed him...  If this were the case, there really was no pain like it. 

It hadn't made sense, getting involved with Draco like he had done.  Draco was wrong for him in almost every way.  Too young, too spoilt, too bratty, too fussy.  A bad kid from a bad family, and nothing like Alastor at all.  Yet somehow, in spite of all of this, Alastor had let it happen.  He had let himself fall for Draco Malfoy, let himself get close to him, physically and inevitably emotionally too.  He should have known better.  He should have listened to his logical thoughts, but instead he was seduced by the thrill of it all and by the eternal yearning that everyone feels to be close with another human being. 

Alastor had trained himself well to resist that yearning, which was why it was so unusual for him to find himself in a situation where he was at risk of being hurt by a loved one.  The pain he now felt made sense of the years of loneliness he had endured in his life.  Loneliness was unpleasant, but there was no pain like the pain of betrayal by someone who you trusted with your heart. 

Draco had whispered sweetly to Alastor, honey dripping from his lips, and Alastor like a fool, had let himself be deceived.  He had handed Draco his finest emotions, his fragile trust, his good reputation and all he had built up over the years.  And Draco, with a smile painted on his beautiful face had accepted all that Alastor gave him.  He had nurtured it, pretended he cared, and then at the last minute had destroyed everything with his betrayal. 

Alastor writhed with the emotional pain of it all.  How could he ever hold his head up again?  How could he have allowed himself to be so humiliated?  He of all people, he should have known the signs of deception, he should have kept his wits about him and not allowed himself to be pulled into a little bubble of happy lies!  He was a fool!  A blind and deluded fool! 

He was furious.  With Draco, but mostly with himself.  In truth it was hard to be furious with Draco, because emotions it seemed didn't switch on and off like that.  Only moments ago, Draco Malfoy was the person with whom Alastor had been the closest with in all the world.  He was someone whom Alastor had been desperate to find, to save from danger.  Every instinct in Alastor's being wanted to simply find Draco and whisk him away to safety.  Somewhere where it was just the two of them.  If it were just the two of them everything would be alright, wouldn't it?  If he could talk to Draco, he could make it all alright again.  Draco wasn't **all** bad, he couldn't be!  He couldn't have faked every moment of intimacy between them, could he?  It couldn't **all** have been lies, every moment, surely?  If there was a grain of truth in any of it, if there was a tiny spark of goodness in Draco, then, if they were alone, away from everyone else's influence...  Maybe Alastor could save him? 

Alastor howled in pain and fury as he thought these things.  How could he have become so pathetic?  How could he even consider trying to save someone who had treated him this way?  Had Draco Malfoy stolen his self respect as well as his heart?  He should hate Draco, he knew he should...  But his emotions didn't seem to switch on and off like that.

Alastor cursed out loud.  He cursed at himself for being so stupid.  How would he ever face anyone again?  What would they think of him?  He was old enough to be Draco's father, for the Gods sake!  How could he have allowed himself to behave so foolishly?  He had made himself ridiculous, he had made himself into that cautionary tale of a foolish old man, desperately chasing youth and beauty.  And he found it had lead him into his downfall.  He should have known better.  He would be a laughing stock, and what's more, he deserved to be. 

Alastor wasn't sure how long he remained there on the floor, only that is was for quite some time.  He simply couldn't think straight.  He hadn't eaten since he and Draco had stopped for lunch that afternoon.  He knew he needed food in order to function, but the thought of eating anything made him feel sicker than he felt already.  He needed to sleep, but the idea of relaxing seemed impossible too.  What if Draco **hadn't** betrayed him?  What if Draco was being tortured by the death eaters right now?  But... even if Alastor went for help, he had no idea where they would have taken Draco.  If anyone knew where the death eaters took people, where their hide out was, the Ministry would have attacked long ago before they got so powerful! 

They say in cases of panic and trauma a person's response will either be fight, flight or freeze.  Fight was Alastor's default setting, but right now there was no one there to fight.  There was nowhere to run to either and so the only reaction left was to freeze.  Fear, shame and indecision froze Alastor Moody right where he was, feeling like a broken man.  Eventually he pulled a blanket around himself, but he remained on the floor.  Eventually he drifted into an unpleasant and disturbed sleep. 

It was unlike Alastor to not know what to do.  In all of his years as an Auror he had been known and respected for his quick and decisive action.  He should have been well experienced at making decisions and acting fast, but in this situation there was something he was not used to:

His own emotions. 

Emotions have to be practiced, learned and used in order for a person to control them.  Alastor had left his emotions locked away for so long that now it was almost impossible for him to cope now that they had been unleashed.


	11. Honey Trap

 

_'You can say what you like about the death eaters...'_   Draco thought to himself as he rooted through a large wardrobe...  _'They may have their faults, but they sure know how to dress!_ '  He grinned a devious grin as he pulled from the wardrobe a beautiful set of black silk robes.  Long, flowing and cut wide at the neckline to the point where they were positively androgynous.  He looked at the label, it was a very exclusive designer.  With a smile he removed the robes and the coordinating black satin trousers from the hanger, applied the tailoring charms as the labels directed and slipped the garments on.  He shivered with pleasure as the tailoring charms pulled the garments into the perfect fit for his body. 

Draco admired his reflection in the full length mirror.  He had to admit he had been truly blessed with his looks, and it did feel so good to be clean, well groomed and nicely dressed again after those few days of muddy forests and long walks.  He smiled...  But he could hide up here no longer.  The Dark Lord and his death eaters were dining in a room downstairs and he had the honour of joining them.  Steadying his nerves, Draco took care to transfer all of the contents of his pockets into the pockets of the new, beautiful robes he wore before he left his dressing room.

Draco sashayed into the great dining hall.  He had done his grovelling now.  That wasn’t something a Malfoy could keep up for too long!  Now he was clean and beautifully dressed.  He had provided information and was in the Dark Lords favour.  There was no reason not to stand tall now. 

The dining room was not dissimilar to the one at Malfoy manor.  A long wooden table with chairs down either side and more ornate chairs at each end.  The snob in Draco couldn’t help but notice that the style was somewhat incongruous with the building.  The building was Georgian neo-classical, whilst the table pretended to be medieval.  The family who had owned this house had clearly made their money in the late 18th century but had wanted to give the impression it was inherited.  Draco tried not to judge but couldn’t help it. 

He felt superior, but then again, he usually did.  He wondered in to the room and ignored the majority of the occupants and looked straight at the Dark Lord at the head of the table.  Draco smiled a seductive smile.  He knew he looked perfect and was able to be himself again. 

‘Good evening, my lord.’  Draco drawled, making a flamboyant flourishing bow. 

Voldemort laughed at the marked change in his appearance and demeanour. 

‘It's amazing what a bath and a good set of robes can do!’  He hissed.  ‘Do you feel clean now, Draco?  Have you washed that foul filthy Auror off your skin...?’ 

Several of the death eaters laughed but Draco held his ground.  He drew himself up tall. 

‘I can’t allow myself to remain tainted by him forever.’  Draco said flatly.  ‘I might not be worthy of the great honour of being in your presence, my lord, but I am certainly worth more than him!’  

Voldemort laughed again. 

‘Indeed you are.’  He affirmed.  ‘And you are a Slytherin are you not..?   You’re resilient.’ 

‘Yes.’  Draco replied confidently.  ‘My lord.’  He added in time. 

‘Come and sit beside me.’  Voldemort beckoned.   ‘You may have been a filthy little Auror whore this afternoon, but you really have cleaned up quite well.’  He laughed with malice.  ‘And besides, you bought useful information, you should be rewarded for that at least.’ 

Draco sauntered over to Voldemort, a proud conceited look on his smooth icy face, his arrogance irritating several of the death eaters who felt they had endured more over the years, for far less reward.  

Voldemort extended his hand to Draco who took hold of it and raised it to his lips.  He kissed Voldemort’s cold grey skin lingering over the task long enough to make eye contact with him flirtatiously. 

Voldemort smiled an evil smile as he pulled Draco close and made him sit beside him. 

Draco sat as close as he could and gazed up at the Dark Lord with both desire and admiration. 

Voldemort summoned a servant to bring wine.  The wine was for him to enjoy, not because he felt it would be necessary in order to get the Malfoy brat into bed.  That would be all too easy!  The brat could have some wine, if he wanted.  It didn’t really matter.  Voldemort planned to fuck him half insensible anyway.  It was merciful of him to allow the boy to drink first, Voldemort mused.  But then again, he bore the boy no ill will.  In fact he was pleased with him.  The boy had been brave, loyal and useful, but that didn't stop Voldemort from planning to fuck him like a whore once he took him to his bed.  He was the Dark Lord after all and Draco Malfoy was a devoted follower so therefore Voldemort could do what he liked with him.

Voldemort wasn't usually given to lust.  He considered such things beneath him, but the Malfoy brat really had put it on a plate for him.  There could be no misunderstanding the way he had behaved that afternoon.  The little slut wanted it bad and Voldemort, being a kind lord, as well as a merciful one, thought it would be fun to give it to him.  It **was** a mercy mission really after what had endured from that lecherous old Auror.  Voldemort tried not to smirk every time he imagined it.  The thought of the boy being violently defiled by an ugly old man who he hated both amused Voldemort and aroused him.  Perhaps he'd make the boy talk through it in every detail, as foreplay...?

Wormtail poured wine for Voldemort with a simpering smile. 

‘And some for little Malfoy here.’  Voldemort prompted.  ‘He may find he needs it.’ 

There was laughter from some around the table. 

‘Thank you.’  Draco replied smoothly not letting the laughter phase him. 

Draco was not naive, he could anticipate the Dark Lords plans for him that evening.  In fact he had engineered the situation quite on purpose.  What better way to get right to the top?

Draco drank slowly and extremely carefully knowing from recent experience he was not the experienced drinker he sometimes thought he was.  He was grateful when Wormtail was instructed to leave and it became his responsibility to pour the wine.  That way he could give himself less than everyone else and it could go unnoticed. 

Draco slipped naturally into the subservient role, pouring wine for Voldemort with a coquettish smile and a flutter of his long eye lashes.  He showed little more than a patronising tolerance to the others, which seemed to very much amuse the dark lord. 

Draco had no intention of getting drunk, he wanted to be fully alert for the evening, but he did know he would have to at least act a little drunk so that the others would think he was drinking as much as they were. 

He spoke louder.  He boasted and bragged about his wealth and influence.  He described with relish how he had tricked the Minister for magic, how he had convinced everyone he wanted their help.  He laughed about how he had tricked them into wasting their best Auror resource on guarding him when all the time he hoped to get information and then to run. 

‘You had to pay quite a high price though, didn't you?’  Greyback barked from across the table making many of the death eaters laugh. 

‘Very amusing, Fleaback.’  Draco retorted dryly with a haughty sneer.  ‘I am more than prepared to make personal sacrifices if I can please the Dark Lord.’ 

Draco's response was met with a greater laugh than Greyback's comment, which angered the werewolf but amused Voldemort who was rapidly beginning to hold the Malfoy boy as something of a little favourite, in spite of his flaws, or perhaps because of them. 

‘You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face when you find yourself making similar ‘personal sacrifices’ later tonight.’  Greyback snapped. 

‘I can only guess at what you are insinuating...’  Draco began slickly, ‘And I personally cannot imagine that the Dark Lord would chose to bestow such a great honour upon me.’ 

Draco gave Voldemort a coy, seductive smile. 

‘As smooth talking as your father!’  Voldemort laughed.  ‘But braver, and certainly more entertaining!’ 

Draco glowed and smiled a smug satisfied smile as he moved a little closer to Voldemort, glancing at him playfully. 

The evening wore on.  Insulting and teasing Draco became less and less the order of the day and Voldemort seemed more and more amused by Draco’s rudeness to the others. 

Draco moved closer and closer to Voldemort until he was practically draped over his lap. Whenever he found cause to speak to him directly he would practically whisper to him making communication as intimate as possible. 

‘Would you like some more wine, my lord...?’  Draco whispered softly, lingering over each word, his lips inches from Voldemort’s ear. 

When Voldemort said ‘yes’ Draco purposefully leant over him to reach the bottle ensuring physical contact between them.  He poured the drink and Voldemort actually thanked him. 

‘It's a pleasure to serve you, my lord.’  Draco whispered as it gave him an excuse to get close again. 

Slowly the death eaters made their excuses and began to drift away.  Some to rooms within the house and some back to their families.  Draco recognised some of them as Hogwarts parents, many of whom he had not known were involved with the movement.  Draco made a mental list of names and faces. 

Soon only Voldemort and he remained with Wormtail hovering somewhere in the background in case he was needed again. 

‘Just you and me left, my lord...’  Draco said smiling.  ‘You know I have no home I can go to, I wonder if you will let me stay...’

‘No need to act coy on my account.’  Voldemort hissed.  ‘You've no audience to impress now, and you know full well I'm going to take you to my bed this evening...  My most worthy and favoured follower!’ 

Draco blushed and leant close to whisper;

‘It is a great honour my lord and I will please you in any way I can.’ 

Voldemort laughed. 

‘Certainly, you will.  It pleases me that you are so well trained.  Come, now, this way.’ 

He stood up almost knocking Draco onto the floor as Draco was practically sitting on his lap.  He gestured towards the grand entrance hall where the stairs led up to the bedrooms. 

‘Can we take some more wine?’  Draco asked quickly. 

Voldemort paused. 

‘You are a spoilt little lap dog, aren't you Malfoy?’  He hissed.  ‘I would have thought you’d had enough by now.’ 

‘I'm an aristocrat, we always drink too much.’  He replied. 

Voldemort laughed.  Draco was wonderfully cocky.  It was very entertaining, and of course it could be beaten out of him if Voldemort ever tired of it. 

‘If you like, you little brat.’  He replied.  ‘Take a bottle from that cabinet.  And bring two glasses.’ 

‘Yes my lord.’  Draco smiled to himself smugly as made his way to the cabinet and picked up the strongest wine he could see. 

He made his way back to Voldemort who grabbed him quite roughly by the arm.  Now they were standing up the effects of the alcohol seemed to suddenly become more dramatic.  Draco amended his walk to a drunken swagger to match Voldemort’s. 

Voldemort led Draco back up the stairs he had descended earlier that evening but took him to a far more ostentatious room than the one where he had bathed.  There was a grand bed with thick opulent bed covers, and just for a split second, Draco thought how comfortable it looked and how nice it would be to sleep there after all those nights of roughing it.  He checked himself at once.  He wasn’t going to be doing much sleeping tonight, after all. 

Voldemort locked the door behind them.  Perhaps he thought Draco might try to run away or perhaps he simply wanted to prevent them being disturbed.  He grinned lecherously thinking what perfect payback for Lucius's incompetence it was to blatantly take his only child as a sex-toy-whore while he was locked away.  Draco looked set to be a most willing and amusing slut to play with, as well as being quite a useful one, too. 

Voldemort quickly made his way to the bed while Draco looked around for a table for the wine, preferably in a corner of the room where he could pour it with his back to the Dark Lord. 

The room contained no such furniture and Draco’s heart began to race now, the reality of his situation dawning on him.  He couldn’t stall forever.  He began to break out in a sweat but tried to keep his cool. 

‘Bring me some wine.’  Voldemort commanded as he reclined on the bed loosening his robes. 

‘Yes my lord.’  Draco replied silkily. 

Realising the only surface on which to put the wine was the dressing table Draco suppressed a sigh as he realised he couldn't block Voldemort’s view of him pouring, due to the reflection in the glass.  He surrendered and poured and equal amount into each glass before approaching the bed. 

Voldemort snatched the glass from him and drank nearly all of it in one go giving Draco the chance to take only a minimal sip of his own before putting the glass down.  Then Voldemort grabbed him. 

Draco found himself on his back at once and Voldemort was on top of him.  Draco’s first impression of him was that he was very strong.  He was big too.  He seemed bigger here than he had down stairs, even when he’d been sitting on his ridiculous throne.  Here, just the two of them, he seemed very large and very powerful simply because of his physical size and strength.  Draco felt suddenly very small and weak and he didn't even want to consider the magical power advantage Voldemort had over him. 

In truth Draco didn't have much time to think about anything this bizarre encounter was suddenly happening so fast.  First he was simply aware that Voldemort was on top of him.  Draco wasn't meaning to fight him but somehow despite Draco’s compliance Voldemort seemed to be fighting to restrain him and they thrashed around on the bed like two fighting cats. 

It was a good few minutes before Draco even noticed that Voldemort was kissing him.  Was it kissing?  Draco supposed you could call it that.  It was more like a starving wolf was trying to eat him alive, starting with his mouth.  Draco found himself almost gagging as he gasped for breath. 

Voldemort’s mouth was all over Draco.  Licking, sucking and biting at his neck and his face, the only exposed skin as he was still fully clothed.  It hurt pretty much everywhere but Draco had no time to give that any attention.  He could hardly believe this was actually about to happen. 

At long last Voldemort eased off from his angry wrestling foreplay and Draco, his head a little foggy, seized his chance. 

He sat up quickly and moved to the far side of the bed.  Voldemort watched him. 

‘Not scared are you Malfoy?’  He drawled with a grin. 

Draco smiled seductively. 

‘Surely I must undress for you, my lord?’  He replied softly. 

Voldemort was amused, and although he had  little interest in a strip tease, he nodded his head and picked up his wine to drink again while Draco undressed. 

Draco quickly and seamlessly slipped his hand into the pocket of his outer robe, giving the impression he was undoing a fastening.  He located a small vial of liquid he had hidden there when he had dressed earlier that day.  It was the vial of liquid he had been hoping all night to slip surreptitiously into a glass of wine.  This was his last chance! 

Inside the pocket he opened the tiny bottle and let its contents run into his hand.  He placed his hands together coating both palms and as he let his robes fall to the floor, with his back to Voldemort, he dragged his hands over his neck and his chest spreading the sweet smelling potion over his skin.  He braced himself, hoping to the Gods this would work. 

He glanced back over his shoulder at Voldemort with a flutter of his eyelashes. 

He was rather nice unclothed Voldemort thought.  He was glad he hadn't chosen to torture the boy for any reason.  It would have been a shame to damage that perfectly formed body in any way other than this.  He grabbed hold of Draco’s wrist and pulled the naked boy back onto the bed and clamped his mouth back over his lips again. 

Draco caressed him as best he could as Voldemort seemed intent on pinning him down, however yielding he was.  Without wanting to seem as though he were pulling away from the dark lords ferocious kisses, Draco turned his head to the side giving Voldemort the chance to access his neck and the naked, potion-covered flesh. 

Voldemort’s lips sucked hungrily at Draco’s neck, his cold tongue licked him moving down to his chest, again as if he planned to devour him.  Silently, Draco prayed to anyone who might be listening...

He could feel Voldemort’s erection against his hip, and once Voldemort forced his way between his thighs, Draco knew he foreplay time was rapidly running out.  He turned his head again so the Voldemort licked the other side of his neck. 

Was it purely desperate optimism or was Voldemort’s grip on him actually loosening?  Were his movements really slowing down... 

Yes! 

His body weight was becoming heavier and heavier and his violent kisses were now merely nuzzling. 

Draco kept praying. 

Voldemort tried to speak, something about how hard he was going to fuck Draco that  night, but the words were lost in a deep yawn.  Then, at last, he flopped forward completely, his whole body weight on Draco.  His breathing became deep, heavy and relaxed. 

Somewhat trapped, Draco lay totally still in considerable discomfort for several minutes until he was completely sure that Voldemort was asleep.  Only then did he slowly wriggle out from  under him and hurried over to the dressing table where a jug of water stood. 

Hurriedly he dipped the edge of a curtain into the water and scrubbed the last traces of Dreamless Sleep potion from his neck and chest as he was unsure if the potion could be effective on him through his skin. 

He glanced over at the bed where the Dark Lord lay sleeping, probably more peacefully than he had done in years.  Draco felt a thrill of excitement at this little victory!  For a second he could almost understand the appeal of a dangerous job like being an Auror!  However, he reminded himself he was not out of danger yet.  He told himself to stay calm and not to get carried away.  He was lucky, very lucky, to have got away with this much.  It would certainly have been foolish to try to harm the dark lord in any way whilst he was in a house which was full of death eaters, but it was very odd to be alone with him like this. 

He would be alone with him this way all night.  He dare not let himself fall asleep in case Voldemort woke up and his appetites rose again!  He would have to simply stay on the bed, all night, and be as still as he could be.  It was a very long, very dark few hours.

As Draco sat staring in the darkness, counting down the hours until morning; far away, at Hogwarts Albus Dumbledore was just concluding a meeting with Cornelius Fudge and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had already completed his escort mission.  The three men were just about to call it a night when suddenly a silvery white light burst through the office window and a powerful yet desperate spell entered the room. 

Hands on their wands they watched it circle before it came to the centre of the room above Dumbledore's desk.  They stared in shock as it suddenly flickered into its corporal form, the shape of a brilliant, white peacock. 

The message it carried was scratchy and disjointed.  The caster was clearly inexperienced, however the message was clear enough to understand.  Clear enough for Kingsley and Fudge to know exactly what they needed to do.      

When morning began to break through the curtains, Draco hurriedly finished dressing and he quietly slipped out of the room.  He found Wormtail downstairs and snapped at him that the Dark Lord required breakfast.  Draco watched gloatingly as Wormtail prepared it and when it was done Draco snatched it from him. 

'I'll take it to him!'  He snapped arrogantly.  'He won't want **you** barging in there, first thing in the morning!' 

Wormtail looked thoroughly deflated as Draco hurried off with the tray of breakfast.  Draco knew he could distract Voldemort with food and then remind him just how spectacular last night had been, if necessary.  As he was up and dressed and there was much to do, he was optimistic that he was safe from any more sexual attention from the Dark Lord, for the time being at least.  Now all that remained was the small business of launching an attack on Auror Alastor Moody.     


	12. Attack!

 

Alastor awoke with a start the next morning as the sunlight pierced through the window.  He had a split second of confusion.  Where was he?  What was going on?  It was a horrible, disorientating feeling, but it was marginally less horrible than the moment when the memories returned. 

Confused and shaking, and still not sure what to do, Alastor struggled to pull himself to his feet. 

No sooner had he done so, he heard a loud cracking sound outside.  he grabbed his wand and his staff immediately.  He knew that sound.  It was the sound of apparating.

The windows of the hut were too small and grimy for him to adequately see outside, so he went straight to the door.  There was no point in hiding away in any case.  If he was going to be attacked better, that it be out in the open rather than confined in the tiny hut.  What some might have perceived as cover and protection, Alastor recognised at once as being a problem, as it would have trapped him if the enemy were to get inside and corner him.

He burst out of the door. 

He had held on to a tiny, secret shred of hope that just maybe he had been wrong about Draco.  Just maybe, he hadn't betrayed him?  Secretly, almost not daring to admit it to himself, Alastor had held on to a glimmer of hope that he had been wrong.  As he stepped outside of the door that last scrap of hope died. 

He was surrounded. 

The hut was surrounded by death eaters.  Eight, no, nine of them, no!  Ten!  Ten figures clad in black, wands raised ready to attack him, and there at the back of the group who stood right before him:  Draco Malfoy, perfectly dressed in rich black robes, his hair immaculate, a smug gloating smile on his once-beautiful face.  Alastor felt his heart break in two. 

Something of his emotions must have been readable on his usually reticent, battle-ready face, as Bellatrix, who stood at the front of the group, laughed out loud as she looked at him. 

'The great Auror Moody!'  She cackled in her cold, cruel voice.  'Rather outnumbered, aren't you?  Perhaps if you hand over the children we're seeking as hostages we could see our way to sparing your life...  although I doubt it!'  She concluded with a horrible grin. 

It took a split second, but then Alastor realised just what she had said.  Again, it was out of character, but his confusion was visible on his face.  No sooner had confusion flashed across Alastor's face then if appeared of Bellatrix's face too as she suddenly took notice of the size of the tiny cabin from which Auror Moody had emerged.  It would have taken some undetectable extension charm to have made that place large enough to have housed the number of hostages they were seeking... 

Bellatrix was just about to turn back to look at her nephew for some kind of clarification when suddenly there were several loud snapping sounds from all around them.  Her look of confusion changed in an instant to a look of horror... 

Draco, who's wand had been pointing at Alastor, moved like lighting and before anyone could process what was happening he yelled:

'Experiamus!'

And knocked Bellatrix's wand from her hand.  

That very second the others present realised what was happening. 

Alastor was, for a second or so, rooted to the spot, frozen with shock, as the scene unfolded before his eyes. 

In clouds of white smoke, the Aurors appeared, surrounding the circle of death eaters and outnumbering them three to one.  In the moments it took for the death eaters to realise firstly that they were in trouble, secondly that Draco Malfoy had disarmed their leader and thirdly that this has been a set up all along, the Aurors had disarmed each one of them and immobilised them. 

It had all happened at lightning speed and poor Alastor who was still reeling from having experienced more emotions in the last 24 hours than he could remember experiencing in his lifetime, was still staring in genuine shock as he realised what had just happened. 

Bellatrix glared at her nephew, her eyes like furious fire. 

'You will regret this, you filthy blood-traitor!'  She hissed, straining against the grip that Kingsley Shacklebolt had on her.  'If not by the Dark Lord's hand then by my own!  You will regret this, you will regret ever being born you stupid, double crossing, ungrateful little brat!  You're no family of mine!  You'll beg for your own death by the time I'm done with you, you...' 

'That's enough!'  Kingsley shouted over her.  'You'll have a job carrying out those threats from the place we're taking you.'  He asserted crossly. 

Alastor continued to stare in disbelief.  Tonks, who had been part of the attack, but had already handed her hostage death eater over to two of her colleagues, approached Alastor.  She slapped him hard, but affectionately, in the centre of his back. 

'Hey there, old man!'  She grinned.  'We heard you were in need of some back up.' 

Alastor nodded but couldn't quite manage to speak.  He hadn't taken his eyes off Draco who still had his wand drawn and was doing his best not to look terrified as the nine death eaters glared at him with similar murderous intentions to those which Bellatrix had expressed. 

Kingsley handed Bellatrix over to two ministry guards. 

'Tonks...'  He commanded.  'I want you and Savage to oversee the escort of these nine individuals directly to Azkaban.' 

'Yes sir!'  Tonks replied, winking at Savage, proud that it was they who were in charge of this task. 

'Dawlish, Remus, you're with me.'  Kingsley said.  'I want everyone else as part of the escort team.  High numbers I know, but we don't take risks with the likes of this lot.' 

Alastor took one step towards him, half expecting to receive an order himself, and he would probably have followed it under the circumstances.  Shacklebolt was certainly capable of being in charge when he was of a mind to be. 

'Alastor, you're with Dawlish, Remus and I.  Plus, you still have your charge to look after.  You don't get rid of him that easily!'  Kingsley grinned as the team, lead by Tonks and Savage departed with the captured death eaters, Tonks calling out goodbye to Alastor as they left. 

Alastor turned to stare at Draco, who looked somewhat more relaxed now that the death eaters had gone, but still had eyes as wide as saucers and a face that was even whiter than usual.  Only now did he slowly lower his wand and put it safely away. 

'Draco...'  Kingsley spoke before Alastor could either speak or move.  'Good work.  Rather unexpected, certainly, but you thought fast and acted very bravely.  Your patronus took its message to Professor Dumbledore who just so happened to be meeting with the Minister and myself last night...' 

Draco looked almost as though he might start to cry with relief. 

'Good work.'  Kingsley said again kindly and he smiled at him.  'You're safe now kid.  You're back with your guardian...  see...' 

Kingsley stepped aside clearing the space between Alastor and Draco who stared at one another. 

Alastor's heart was pounding against his ribs.  He could almost hear it, which was a surprise to him as he was sure that only moments ago it had broken in two, or stopped beating at the least!  He clearly needed to hear the details of what had happened, from Draco's point of view, but enough pieces had fallen into place now for it to make sense. 

Draco had been kidnapped by his aunt and somehow, in the last 18 hours he had convinced the death eaters and possibly even the Dark Lord himself to mount an attack on the tiny hut, promising them it contained hostages.  In addition to this he had cast a patronus charm and sent a message to ask for back up to capture the death eaters in a trap.  He had been braver, cleverer and more loyal than some Aurors Alastor had known.  Alastor was speechless and overwhelmed with amazement. 

Draco stared at him, his pupils dilated, his mouth beginning to form a grateful smile when he could stay still no longer.  In a flash he had leapt towards Alastor and flung his arms around him with a passionate sob of gratitude and joy. 

Alastor  was still questioning the reality of all that had just occurred, but the second he felt Draco's body against his once more, suddenly everything was real again.  Draco, his Draco hadn't betrayed him after all!  He was back, back in his arms and was holding him so tightly, frantically caressing his back, his neck, his hair, breathlessly muttering his name over and over.

Remus, Kingsley and Dawlish stared, feeling more and more confused with each passing moment.   

Alastor opened his mouth to try and speak, perhaps to ask Draco if he were alright or perhaps simply to say his name, but he didn't get the chance.  The moment his lips parted Draco could resist no longer.  The second he got a glimmer of a chance, Draco kissed Alastor passionately for all his life was worth.           


	13. Reaction.

 

The staring eyes grew wider and the shocked expressions redoubled as the onlookers saw Mad-Eye's hands meet around Malfoy’s waist and they realised that the embrace, the kisses were mutual!  This was not some bizarre shock reaction on Draco’s part, it was the result of something between them!  This looked, at least in part, familiar to them.  This was not a first kiss!

‘Woooooahhh!!’  Kingsley cheered, Lupin and Dawlish quickly joining in. 

Draco seemed to remember himself and he slowly pulled back from the kiss, whispering,

‘Thanks the gods you’re alright...’ 

Alastor sighed with relief, composing himself after hitting a wall of emotions at 100 miles an hour!

‘Thank the gods **you** are!’  He replied.  Then he suddenly panicked... _constant vigilance!_

‘How can I be sure it’s really you?’  Alastor asked taking Draco roughly by the shoulders.   ‘How do I know you're not one of them in disguise?’ 

Draco looked around helplessly unsure what to do to prove himself. 

‘Can you tell him something only Draco Malfoy would know...?’  Kingsley suggested helpfully. 

Draco frowned and thought for a second.  Then his eyes lit up. 

He turned to Alastor. 

‘OK...  I can tell you all about the time that we...’

Draco leant in very close and whispered the rest of the sentence in Alastor's ear. 

Even from some distance it was easy to see Alastor's cheeks turning red. 

‘Draco! Please!’  Alastor exclaimed. 

Kingsley spluttered with laughter. 

Draco didn’t seem ready to let go of Alastor, and Alastor was in no hurry to make him, as it was simply such a miracle to have him back again.  Draco clung to him and Alastor kept one hand firmly on Draco’s waist. 

‘I can’t believe my eyes, boss!’  Kingsley grinned as he noticed Alastor's scarred face was still rather pink. 

‘Can it be that our esteemed head Auror, leader of the advanced guard is committing an act of _serious misconduct_?’  Dawlish teased. 

Alastor scowled at them. 

‘What’s the matter?  You children never seen two people kissing before?’

He kept a possessive arm around Draco, who was starting to blush. 

‘Well!’  Kingsley grinned.  ‘If that’s the way it is...  That’s fine.  Just so long as you never make another comment about my conduct again, boss!’ 

Dawlish and Remus laughed. 

Alastor conceded.   It was a fair cop.  He had gone ahead and done exactly what they were told not to do.  The Aurors were bound to have something to say about it.  After all, everyone loved a boss who broke the rules once in a while.  This was one of the reasons Alastor was so popular, it was just it wasn’t usually **this** rule he was breaking. 

‘We need to get out of here.’  Alastor said suddenly, changing the subject at once. 

Draco nodded in agreement. 

‘The Dark Lord knows the coordinates for this place.’  Draco confirmed.  ‘He’s may send others.  We should go.  Quickly!’ 

‘Everyone get together.’  Kingsley commanded.  ‘I’ve got a coded port key we can use.  Good luck to anyone trying to trace us using this!’ He laughed. 

Everyone huddled round, including Alastor and Draco who were still holding on to each other. 

‘Where does it take us?’  Alastor asked in a low voice.

‘Hogsmede safe house.’  Kingsley replied equally quietly.   ‘ We can haul up there for a while and decide what to do.  Plus Fudge is coming there tomorrow to debrief after Draco’s capture.’  He added with a grin spreading from ear to ear as he pictured the ministers face when he found out about Mad-Eye kissing The Brat!

Alastor scowled at him as if he read his thoughts but Kingsley was not discouraged.   He pulled a small leather bound book from his robes and held it out so they could all reach.  There was a whooshing sound and a loud pop as they all disappeared. 

Draco screwed his eyes shut and when he opened them again they were in a field just outside of Hogsmede looking up at a tall building... 

The shrieking shack.

‘The ministry have been using it as a safe house for awhile now...’  Kingsley explained for Draco’s benefit as they trudged towards the door. 

‘But...  but isn’t it...  haunted?’  Draco asked, a touch of his high maintenance whining returning to his voice.  ‘People used to hear...  screams...  howls...’ 

‘Errrrrr.... no.’  Remus offered awkwardly.  ‘It turns out that was....  something else.  The place isn’t haunted at all.’ 

Draco wasn’t sure he was convinced. 

‘Well it looks haunted to me!’  He exclaimed.  ‘look!’  He said as they passed through the force field ‘There’s someone in that window!’ 

They all looked up to where Draco was pointing and saw that there was indeed a figure in one of the grimy windows.  It saw them too for after a second it turned and ran from the window. 

‘Someone’s using the place!’  Alastor exclaimed.  ‘It must be someone else with clearance or they couldn’t have got past that force field...  not even via the passageway.’ 

Despite this, everyone was a little more on guard knowing that the house was occupied.  All hands were on wands.  However, before they reached the front door it swung open and there stood a rather red faced Ron Weasley who had just run down from the upstairs room where he had been keeping lookout from the window. 

‘Hey!’  He beamed.  ‘Kingsley!  Professor Lupin!  Professor Moody!  What are you guys doing here?  Harry, Hermione!’  He called back into the house.  ‘The Aurors are here!’ 

‘Hello Ron.’  Kingsley smiled.  ‘You gonna let us into your safe house?  We’re seeking sanctuary.’ 

‘Course!’  Ron replied.  Then he saw Draco.  ‘What’s Malfoy doing here?’  He asked suspiciously. 

Draco scowled. 

‘Nice welcome, Weasel boy!  What are **you** doing here?’  He hissed. 

It was then that Ron noticed that Mad-Eye had his arm around Malfoy.  He frowned for a second while he tried to figure it out. 

‘Oh, I didn’t realised he was injured.  Sorry.  Come in.’ 

‘Im not injured....’  Draco began to protest but before he could form an insult Harry had appeared and welcomed them all into the house. 

‘Come and sit down.’  Harry ushered them into the makeshift sitting room.   ‘What’s going on?  What brings you all here?’ 

‘Its a long story, as I’m sure yours is.’  Remus smiled. 

‘And what about him?’  Ron said eyeing Malfoy with mistrust, causing Harry to look at him too.  He was sitting very close to Mad-Eye Moody wasn’t he?  

Draco glared at them all with equal venom. 

‘Draco here was under escort with Auror Moody when he was captured by the death eaters.’  Kingsley explained.  ‘He fed them false information about the whereabouts of the escorted children and sent a message to the Ministry so that we could ambush them.’  Kingsley grinned.  ‘Nine of them!  We got nine of the bastards!  Anyway, we came straight here via coded port key to figure out our next move.’ 

Ron’s mouth hung open.

‘Really?’  Harry asked cynically eyeing Malfoy with suspicion.

Alastor suddenly felt rather defensive of Draco.  It wasn’t right that he be judged so harshly when he had been so genuinely courageous. 

‘Yes.’  Alastor replied rather assertively.  ‘Yes really.  He’s a brave lad, this one.’  He concluded and with conviction as he put his arm around Draco’s shoulder. 

Draco smiled a satisfied smile and narrowed his eyes as he glared at Harry and Ron who were now gawping like goldfish.  He snuggled up to Alastor with a catty look on his face, reaching up and holding Alastor's hand, interlocking their fingers tightly. 

Kingsley laughed at Harry and Ron’s faces. 

‘Oh yeah!’  He said nodding towards Alastor and Draco.  ‘Apparently nothing brings two people close like walking 20 miles a day and sleeping in dilapidated sheds.  Or maybe it’s the irresistible charm of an Auror...  but it seems like love has blossomed.’ 

‘Shut your mouth, Shacklebolt.’  Alastor grunted.  ‘I don’t use my Auror status to impress...  unlike some!  And I dread to think what state you left those two young ladies in!’  He added slyly. 

‘Ooohhh no you don’t!’  Kingsley laughed giving Moody a playful punch on the arm.   ‘You never, ever get to give me any stick again!  Not after this one.  You sly old dog!  Not one word about me, ever again!’

Alastor laughed a defeated laugh while Draco was still busy revelling in the look of total disbelief on Ron and Harry’s faces.

‘So we’re here to hide out for a while.’  Remus explained.  ‘Plus Fudge will be coming tomorrow to debrief with Draco following his capture.  Question is, what are you three doing here?’  He asked as Hermione appeared in the doorway. 

‘Oh, we need to get to Hogwarts.’  Hermione told them.  ‘One of the....’  She stopped when she saw Draco. 

‘We need something that’s there.’  Harry said, knowing the Aurors would know what this meant.  ‘Look, you guys have had a battle, right?  How about  some tea or something?  This place is quite well set up.’ 

‘That would be nice.’  Remus said. 

‘I’ll make it.’  Hermione offered. 

‘I’ll help!’  Ron exclaimed.

‘Me too!’  Harry said, desperate to get into the privacy of the kitchen. 

Hermione frowned. 

‘I don’t need help.’  She laughed.  ‘Its only tea!’ 

Both Harry and Ron quietly cursed her for denying them their easy get out. 

‘We need to stay here tonight.’  Remus told them.  ‘Are there enough bedrooms?’ 

‘There's three rooms on the top floor.  A small room with two single beds, a room with a sofa, and a room with a double bed...’  Harry replied awkwardly, blushing a little, for some reason. 

‘I’ll take the twin room with you, Remus.’  Kingsley asserted.  ‘Dawlish can have the sofa, he snores like a troll with a respiratory infection.  And I think we all know who’s gonna want the double room...’  He teased.  ‘You’d better use a silencing charm, Moody!’  He laughed. 

‘Oh, grow up Shacklebolt!’  Alastor barked.  ‘Get your mind out of the gutter for once.’ 

Harry and Ron glanced at each other wondering just what parallel universe they had stumbled into where Mad-Eye Moody was somehow romantically involved with Draco Malfoy.  They needed Hermiones opinion on this!  It was just too bizarre!

‘Why don’t we take our bags upstairs, get them out of the way?’  Remus suggested sensing the awkward tension in the room. 

Draco stood up at once clearly as desperate for a get-out as Harry and Ron had been.  Alastor heaved himself from the sofa with a groan. 

‘Let’s go and put these bags upstairs.’  Alastor said to Draco.  ‘And you look like you could do with a rest.’  He observed.

Draco simply nodded, exhaustion and trauma hitting him and he couldn’t think of a snappy response to give.   He just wanted to be away from all these others so he could let his guard down a little. 

He followed Alastor to the stairs and up to the top floor of the building.  It didn’t seem as scary as he had imagined particularly when they passed a room with Potter and Weasley stuff bursting out of a bag all over the place.  He felt his heart soar with relief when they reached the bedroom where they would sleep. 

The second they were inside and had set their bags down, Draco flung his arms around Alastor's neck and buried his face against his chest where he clung to him tightly. 

Alastor held him in his thick strong arms and gently stroked his back.   It seemed that Draco hadn’t been desperate to get away from the awkwardness down stairs.  He had just been desperate to be alone with Alastor again.  It all seemed so strange and unreal.  Alastor could do nothing but simply allow it to unfold. 

At last, Draco spoke.  His voice came out in a quiet, frightened, needy little sound which he barely recognised as his own as he whispered;

‘I was **so** scared.’

Alastor sighed deeply and felt that strange overpowering affection which Draco seemed to bring out in him.  One hand tenderly cradled the back of Draco’s head. 

‘I know.’  He whispered.  ‘I know you were.  I was too.  I was scared I’d lost you.’ 

Draco steadied himself and stepped back to look at Alastor. 

‘Really?’  He asked. 

‘Yes.’  Alastor replied sincerely.  ‘I was so afraid to think they might hurt you.  I was scared I wouldn’t see you again...’

He paused and noticed that Draco was eyeing him cynically.  He sighed. 

‘And OK, I admit it! I was scared you might have gone over to join them.  I’m a paranoid old fool and when I saw you turn on them and the others appeared...  Well....  I’ve never been happier, prouder...’  His words trailed off as he noticed tears glistening in Draco’s grey eyes. 

He pulled him close again. 

‘You’re safe now.’  He whispered as softly as his gruff voice would allow. 

‘I'm tired.’  Draco whispered back. ‘I didn’t sleep last night.  I was too worried.’

‘Why don’t you sleep for a while now?’  Alastor suggested.  ‘Just get a couple of hours.  No one will mind.  And you’re safe here.’  He added reassuringly. 

Draco smiled and went and sat on the bed.  He extended his hand to Alastor. 

‘Will you stay with me?’  He whispered in a seductive tone.  

Alastor gave a little laugh. 

‘I should go back downstairs.  If I stay up here with you too long...  Well...  I’ll never hear the end of it.’ 

Draco laughed.

‘OK.’  He conceded.  ‘You...  You don’t mind, do you?’  He asked meekly. 

‘Mind what?’  Alastor asked, sitting beside him and taking hold of his hands. 

‘Mind them teasing you.’  Draco said.  ‘Mind them knowing.... about us...?’ 

‘Us....’  Alastor echoed, musing on the concept.   ‘No.  I don’t mind.’  He said decidedly.  ‘I’ve never cared what people think of me and now is no exception.  I thought I’d lost you.  I thought for a moment I’d made a mistake to trust you...  But here you are...  And you’re as brave and true as I am.’ 

‘Hardly!’  Draco exclaimed laughing. 

‘You took a huge risk, and here you are...  You...  You came back to me...’  Alastor's words faltered....  ‘You came back when I thought I’d lost you.  I’m proud to be with you...  If that’s what you want.’  He added. 

Draco gave him a flirty smile. 

‘Well it was all going pretty well, wasn’t it?’ He grinned. 

Alastor almost blushed. 

‘Yes.  Yes I suppose it was.’  He admitted.  ‘Now go to sleep, Brat!  And let me go back downstairs before everyone decides we’re up to no good!’ 

Draco giggled. 

‘I can’t sleep...  I’ll miss you too much!’  He replied. 

Alastor reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of potion. 

‘Dreamless Sleep.’  He told Draco.  ‘I’ll give you just a drop.  Should knock you out for an hour or so.’ 

‘I’ll be so vulnerable!’  Draco grinned.  ‘How do I know you won’t take advantage of me?’  He teased. 

‘I’ll wait until you’re awake,  you’ll be more fun that way.’  He said dryly and Draco laughed as Alastor offered him a drop of the potion. 

Draco opened his mouth and Alastor gave him one tiny drop of Dreamless Sleep before encouraging him to lie down and stroking his hair softly for a moment. 

‘Sleep, little ferret....’  He whispered in a voice that was so tender he hardly recognised it as his own. 

Draco wanted to reply, feeling that he wanted to say something in response to being called _‘little ferret’,_ but the potion was taking instant effect.  His eyes were closing, he couldn’t form words... 

Alastor smiled as Draco’s eyelids closed.  He stood up.   It was all so strange.  Strange, but enchanting and addictive.  It had been a very, very long time since he embarked on any kind of relationship.  This could be the worst timing and the most ill informed relationship ever, but...  but...  if felt beautiful.  Alastor left the room where Draco was sleeping and tried his very best to wipe the smile off his face before he got back down stairs.  A sensible sombre expression fixed on his face, he returned to the sitting room. 

Only Remus remained there.  Tea was on the table. 

‘Kingsley is talking over some points with Harry.’  Remus told him.  ‘Ron disappeared into the kitchen.’  He added. 

Alastor grunted a response and took a cup of tea from the table and took a long welcome swig of the hot comforting liquid.  He sighed a deep satisfied sigh and stood looking out of the window at the snowy scene outside the house.    

‘Alastor....’  Remus began tentatively. 

Alastor turned round to face his friend.  

‘Alastor, may I speak a little out of turn?’  Remus asked. 

‘You may.’  Alastor said.  ‘I'm surprised you asked.’ 

Remus smiled a little apologetically. 

‘Its...  about...  you, and the Malfoy boy...  Draco.  You and Draco.’  He managed with some discomfort. 

‘What of it?’  Alastor asked assertively. 

‘Well...  are you...  are you sure it’s a good idea?’  Remus asked as diplomatically as he could. 

Alastor thought for a moment, maintaining eye contact with his friend. 

‘No.’  He concluded.  ‘I'm not at all sure it’s a good idea.  But I'm sure I want to do it anyway.’  He confirmed in a voice which expressed finality. 

However Remus, out of concern, continued with his point. 

‘I...  I can understand that Alastor, really I can, but...  I’m worried for you.’  He said kindly.  ‘The Malfoy boy, the whole family...  they have such a reputation...’ 

‘I'm well aware of that!’  Alastor interjected. 

Remus nodded, taking the point. 

‘I know.’  He conceded.  ‘But do you trust him, Alastor?  You are always so cautious!  Do you really think you can trust Draco Malfoy?  Don’t you feel worried that he might be....  tricking you somehow?  Deceiving you?’ 

‘Is it so inconceivable that an attractive young boy might want to be with me?’  Alastor asked, half jokingly.

Remus opened his mouth to begin to apologise and explain further but Alastor silenced him with a smile and a shake of his head letting him know that he knew this wasn’t what he had meant. 

‘I was worried, yes.’  Alastor confessed.  ‘When I lost him I thought he might have defected to them and that I had made a dreadful fool of myself...  But then he came back.  He did what he did.  I’ve seen a side to him he tries to hide. I’ve seen how much he dislikes his family...  Let’s be honest Remus, I wouldn’t naturally trust my closest friends in an intimate relationship, yet alone the son of two death eaters who I convicted!  A boy I’ve known for less than a week.  Question is, can we ever really trust anyone completely?  Can we ever really know someone’s true intentions?’

Remus nodded, taking the point. 

‘So you see, I’m no worse off with Draco than I would be with anyone else.  Besides, there’s a war on Remus.  We could all be killed tomorrow.  I’ve done a lot of good in my life, but I’ve spent very little time being close with another person.   I’ve rarely made time for the softer things in life and if I were to be killed tomorrow, that is what I’d regret.’ 

Remus had listened sensitively and now he nodded understandingly. 

‘We're not going to die tomorrow.’  He said decidedly.  ‘Because when you put it like that, I’m not sure I’ve loved enough in my life, either.  I’d like a little more time for that too.’ 

Alastor smiled his rough, weathered smile. 

‘Thanks you for your concern Remus old friend.’  He smiled. 

‘Any time.  It was just a bit of a shock.  We’re not used to you getting into whirlwind romances.’ 

‘No.  But you all know I’m old enough and ugly enough to look after myself.’ 

Just as Remus was about to reply Kingsley and Harry returned to the room. 

‘Where’s your little friend?’  Kingsley asked at once. 

‘Sleeping.’  Alastor replied gruffly.  ‘Stress and trauma seem to have hit him.  I gave him some Dreamless Sleep.   Should knock him out for a couple of hours.’ 

‘I dare say it won’t do him any harm.’  Remus observed. 

Kingsley nodded. 

‘So I’ve been having a chat with Harry here...’  He told Alastor.  ‘I’ll need to catch up with you about it.  Turns out it’s a good thing we came here, I think.’ 

Alastor nodded. 

‘There’s a little office room upstairs.’  Kingsley continued.  ‘I think you, Remus and I need to have a little chat up there.  We’re gonna need to brief Fudge tomorrow too.’  Kingsley rested a supportive hand on Harry’s shoulder to let him know they were there for him and he was not alone. 

‘Come on then.’  Alastor said, leading the way to the stairs.

Kingsley hurriedly told Alastor everything Harry had told him about the trio's progress and their next steps to find the missing horcruxes.  Alastor listened keenly.  A battle was approaching.  There was no doubt about it. 

He was used to battles, he was used to keeping himself safe, he was used to fighting for what he believed in.  This time however he felt different.  This time he would be fighting with someone else on his mind.  Already it felt 100 times more frightening and Alastor remembered why he had never let himself get close to anyone in the past.  He was afraid.  Not for himself, but for Draco.  However, as an experienced fighter, he pushed his fear down and wore a brave expression as he and Kingsley discussed the situation.

Draco slept for far longer than Alastor expected, waking well into the afternoon and only coming downstairs when he was invited to, to have something to eat.  When this happened he sat, looking somewhat aloof, although it could have been an affect of the potion, and once he had eaten he made his excuses and returned upstairs.  Ron and Harry glanced at each other suspiciously.  What was he playing at? 

In reality, Draco was simply avoiding them.  This was an odd situation for him and he was finding it hard to decide just how he should behave.  It was hard to try to make a good impression on the Aurors, be as affectionate as he wanted to be with Alastor, and be as venomous as he was accustomed to being with Potter and his friends.  Draco's various worlds were colliding and it felt rather odd.  They only thing he really wanted to do was to be alone with Alastor again. 

After fearing he had lost him, Alastor was equally keen to be alone with Draco, even if the boy was sleeping, even if he was being irritable and annoying, it didn't really matter.  He just wanted to be with him.  Alone with him, preferably, so that they could pick up where they had left off before the attack.  They had been getting to know each other and it had all been going well.  Alastor stayed downstairs with his colleagues only for what he considered to be a socially acceptable amount of time.  He didn't want it to look like he was too keen to rush upstairs to Draco at the very first opportunity.  He sat downstairs, sipping a glass of rather out of date port which Dawlish had found in a cupboard which he said hadn't been locked in any serious way. 

Harry found it very comforting to have the Aurors there, Ron and Hermione did too and welcomed the chance to sit with them as the night drew in, they gathered round the fire, talking and sharing stories.  To Harry it felt like respite from the terrifying life they had been living, and also a glimpse of the life he would like to have in the future...  If he had a future, that was.  It was comforting to hear Kingsley and Dawlish boasting and telling about all the death defying adventures they had had over the years.  Remus contributed from time to time but Mad-Eye was a little more subdued with his story telling.  He always was, and Harry always got the impression he kept the most dramatic stories back, as if he had never carried out these deeds in order to boast about them. 

'What's the scariest mission you've ever had then, Mad-Eye?'  Ron asked chirpily.  'I mean, Auror Moody.'  He corrected himself respectfully. 

'Every mission has had its risks.'  Alastor replied gruffly. 

'Don't you ever tell anyone about them though?'  Ron asked, leaning forward keenly. 

'Not outside of formal debriefs, no.'  Alastor replied.  'I leave the boasting and bragging to these two.'  he gestured to Kingsley and Dawlish.    

'Nothing wrong with wanting a little bit of glory!'  Kingsley laughed. 

'Spoken like a true Slytherin.'  Remus observed. 

'Were you in Slytherin?'  Harry asked Kingsley, aghast. 

'Sure.'  Kingsley replied.  'We're not all sick and twisted, you know.'  He laughed. 

'Although Kingsley has his moments!'  Dawlish grinned.  'I dated one of his ex girlfriends once and she told me a few twisted tales!' 

Kingsley punched his friend  on the arm and invited him to go and do something that was physically impossible. 

'I'm a Slytherin and I'm a good guy.  It does happen from time to time.'  Kingsley confirmed.  'Like Dawlish here was Ravenclaw and he's thick as hippogriff shit.  Every house has it's odd ones out.' 

Dawlish threw a similar insult at Kingsley and Alastor sighed. 

'And Auror Moody here was Hufflepuff.'  Kingsley continued.  'That's why he doesn't boast about stuff  like we do.  He's just a good guy through and through, he's not all about the glory.  Are you, sir?' 

Alastor simply nodded, looking thoughtful, as he always did. 

'You were Hufflepuff?'  Ron asked disbelievingly. 

'I certainly was.'  Alastor confirmed.  'All the best Auror's are.'  He spoke in a deadpan tone, but there was a smile flickering in the corner of his mouth. 

'You mean like Tonks?'  Harry asked. 

Alastor nodded. 

'That's why she's his favourite.  Hufflepuff solidarity.'  Dawlish explained. 

'That, and she could run rings around you jokers...  And regularly does.'  Alastor added. 

'Are there any Gryffindor Aurors?'  Hermione asked. 

'Of course.'  Alastor replied.  'And there's Remus here, honorary Auror, and member of the Order of the Phoenix.' 

Remus nodded humbly. 

'Is it a career you'd like to try, miss Granger?  I dare say you'd be good at it.'  Alastor said.    

Hermione glowed with pride. 

'Yes, perhaps.'  She replied.  'And Ron and Harry both want to.' 

They nodded enthusiastically. 

Kingsley grinned. 

'Hey boss, if you can recruit your little lover-boy then we'll nearly have a full class of cadets for the new term!' 

There was an awkward pause at the mention of Draco. 

'I don't think Draco has any career aspirations in that direction.'  Alastor replied. 

'Yeah...  Too much like hard work probably.'  Ron chimed in without thinking. 

Alastor glared at him and Ron's smile faded in a heartbeat and was replaced with a look of mild terror. 

'I didn't mean it like that...'  He began hurriedly.  'Just that, well...  He probably won't have to work, will he...?' 

Alastor nodded. 

'Probably not.'  He confirmed.  'He'll have a case to access his inheritance immediately because of the severity of his parents convictions, especially in light of his recent actions to help the ministry.  He'll probably never have to do a day's work in his life.'  Alastor said.  'Which I dare say will suit him well!'  He concluded with a smile so subtle it was only noticed by Kingsley and Remus who knew him well and by Hermione who noticed everything. 

'Question is, boss...'  Kingsley began with a wicked grin  'Are you gonna retire and become a kept man, living the life of luxury, swanning around Malfoy manor?' 

He and Dawlish laughed and Alastor glared at them. 

'I've known him less than a week.'  Alastor replied snappily.

'That was all you needed!'  Kingsley grinned and Dawlish smirked.    

'Right!'  Alastor announced, standing up.  'I'm going to call it a night if you are going to start being childish.  Remus, I'll leave you to babysit.'  He said, and it was clear that by babysit he meant look after Kingsley and Dawlish, not Harry, Ron and Hermione. 

Remus sighed. 

'I'll do my best.'  He replied as Alastor made his way to the staircase. 

'Silencing charm, remember boss!'  Kingsley called after him.  'I'm in the next room remember!' 

'You can sleep in the damn yard, for all I care, Shacklebolt!'  Moody grumbled as he left them to their banter. 

As he made his way up the stairs he felt a pang of conscience about having left Draco alone for so long.  For whatever reason, Draco hadn't felt comfortable to come down stairs and sit with everyone, and really it was hardly surprising when they teased like they did!  Draco might have needed a shoulder to cry on, he might have been scared or still in shock.  Alastor quickened his pace to go to him and comfort him.  Draco might be asleep, he realised.  That would be a shame too.

He opened the door tentatively and quietly, just in case the boy was sleeping.  He closed the door quietly behind him. 

'Hello.'  A sultry voice welcomed him. 

Draco stood at the dressing table.  He had his back to Alastor, but was looking at him in the reflection in the glass. 

'You're still awake.'  Alastor observed, taking his coat off and hanging it on the back of the door. 

'Yes.'  Draco replied with a grin.

His legs were bare and he was in the process of slowly unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing. 

'I thought you might have been in bed already.'  Alastor said.  'Are you alright?' 

Draco slipped the shirt off one shoulder and glanced back at Alastor. 

'I'm ok...'  He whispered silkily.  'Although...'  He grinned playfully...  'It's a little cold in this room... maybe you can help me to get warm...?' 

Draco let his shirt fall to the floor, revealing his beautiful naked back and flaunting the fact that he was not wearing any underwear, showing off his perfect peachy ass. 

Alastor stared at him lustfully, hardly believing that this perfect little creature was there for **him**.  Was preparing to go to bed with **him**.  It was almost too good to be true.  He walked over to Draco and ran his fingers slowly down the centre of his back. 

'It's hardly surprising you're cold dressed like that!'  Alastor observed, moving his hand lower and caressing Draco's butt cheeks. 

'But you're so good at keeping me warm...'  Draco drawled, resting his head back on Alastor's shoulder, gazing longingly up into his face.  'You warmed me up when I was nearly frozen to death...  I figured you'd know what to do...' 

As Draco spoke he reached one hand back to Alastor's crotch and began to fondle him through his clothes. 

'I was worried you were feeling alone and frightened....'  Alastor mumbled as he continued to stroke Draco's lovely smooth cheeks.  'I thought you might be in need of a shoulder to cry on...'  He whispered as he began to kiss at Draco's neck. 

'I don't need a shoulder to cry on...'  Draco whispered.  'But I could sure do with a hard cock to ride on.'  He said brazenly. 

Alastor looked shocked and decided it would be best to cast that silencing charm sooner rather than later! 

'Draco!'  He exclaimed.  'You're insatiable!' 

Draco giggled and ground his hips back against Alastor, who obliged him by pushing his fingers into the crease between Draco's ass cheeks, his fingertips teasing lightly over his most intimate place. 

'Mmmmmm....'  Draco moaned in a positively pornographic way. 

Alastor felt his cock stiffen at once.  Just why had he spent so much time downstairs...?

'I missed you...'  Draco continued seductively.  'I had to be away from you for a whole night!' 

'Draco, I'm sure I gave you Dreamless Sleep today, not Amortentia!'  Alastor said.  'You're sex crazed!  What's got into you?' 

Draco smiled a smutty smile.

'I'd like it if you got into me!'

Alastor blushed.  He was hardly used to such comments! 

Alastor took hold of Draco from behind, wrapping his arm around his torso.  His hand moved slowly over his chest and then held on to his elegant upper arm, gripping him firmly, but not too hard.  He pressed his lips to the side of Draco's neck and kissed him.  He watched in the mirror as Draco smiled and closed his eyes.

As Alastor kissed him Draco looked enraptured.  Alastor watched his reflection, he looked so beautiful, so relaxed and happy, so different to how scared and tense he had looked before.  Alastor couldn't help but wonder what horrors Draco had endured, what he had had to do in order to survived that night with the death eaters.  Alastor almost wanted Draco to tell him what had happened before they did anything else.  Surely Draco needed to talk about it?  Surely he needed a shoulder to cry on... 

But Draco moaned happily as Alastor kissed his neck.  He turned his head to allow Alastor's lips to meet with his.  He reached his hand back slyly and began to fondle Alastor's cock which was growing harder by the minute as he watched Draco's alluring image in the mirror.  Perhaps Draco didn't need to talk right away?  Maybe he would rather talk afterwards?  Alastor reminded himself that Draco was far more mature and clever than most gave him credit for, and if Draco was determined that this was what he wanted and needed most right now, Alastor was disinclined to try to argue with him.   

'Come to the bed...'  Alastor whispered. 

As tempting as it would be to do Draco right where they were, standing at the dressing table, there was in this room, a full size, double, four poster bed.  Far more opulent than any of the beds they had slept on recently, and it would have been a shame not to make the most of it! 

Draco was obedient and he allowed Alastor to lead him to the bed.  The bed was of the medieval style, considerably higher than more modern beds.  The mattress was firm but comfortable.  It would have been a good height for bending over to be fucked from behind, Draco thought, but it seemed this was not what Alastor had in mind. 

Alastor pulled Draco round to face him.  He gripped him tightly and kissed him on the lips, meaningfully, affectionately, passionately. 

'Face me.'  He whispered.  His voice, although it had a hint of his commanding, authoritative tone, had a softness to it and his request came from the heart. 

Draco smiled at him and gently caressed his face with a stroke of his soft hand. 

'Of course.'  He smiled. 

'I want to look at you...'  Alastor whispered gruffly, feeling a little embarrassed by his own emotions and by the fact he was actually expressing them. 

He gently lifted Draco up onto the bed. 

Draco happily realised the position Alastor wanted him in, and he parted his legs so that Alastor could get between his thighs.  Draco gripped him possessively. 

Alastor's large rough hands cupped Draco's face and he lightly touched his lips against Draco's with teasing softness, whispering as he did so. 

'Thank the gods I've got you back...' 

Draco muttered some agreement, but was more focused on unfastening Alastor's leather waistcoat.  Alastor shrugged the garment off and let it fall, discarded, on the floor.  Draco was loosening his shirt now, but Alastor's desires were becoming too strong to worry about removing all of his clothes.  He pulled Draco flush up against him and held him tightly. 

There were no more words, their lips were firmly planted together.  They kissed hungrily, then softly, a mixture of emotions rushing through them, from tenderness, to desire, to simply gratitude at being reunited.  Draco had lost interest in Alastor's shirt, he was more interested in unfastening his trousers and reaching for his thick hard cock which he could already feel pushing against him. 

Draco wanted it now.  He had been so scared when he had thought that Voldemort was going to fuck him, so afraid he had wondered if he would ever want anyone to come near him ever again.  However, seeing Alastor again, being close to him, his touch, the taste of his kisses, the smell of his skin...  All of this had reignited the spark within Draco and now his lust was too much to bare!  His legs spread wide around the thick girth of Alastor's chunky body had Draco longing for penetration like nothing else could.  He was so ready!

Alastor's cock sprung free of his trousers and fell hard and heavy into Draco's palm where he squeezed gently and caressed the length for a moment, savouring the sensation and the delicious anticipation of feeling this wide, well formed rod in his ass.  Alastor groaned a needy groan as Draco touched him, his too-often neglected desires taking control of his senses once again, it seemed to be the effect Draco Malfoy had on him every time they were alone! 

Alastor silently cast a lubrication charm over his cock and then he lifted Draco up from the bed just enough so that he could line the head of his cock up with Draco's asshole.  Using Draco's body weight for assistance, he pushed him down, impaling the needy boy on his erection, savouring the heat of him and gasping at the relative ease with which his slipped inside. 

'Fuck...  yes...'  Draco gasped incoherently, his head flopping back as he relaxed totally into being entered. 

The sensation was mind blowing.  Draco loved everything about it.  He loved the contrast between Alastor and himself.  Loved Alastor's rough manliness compared to his own pristine delicacy.  He loved feeling small and dainty compared to Alastor's brutish, bulky size and strength.  He loved being submissive and yielding against Alastor's hard commanding force.  Draco loved being subservient to Alastor in ways he had never dreamt of being before, all the while feeling safer than he had ever felt with anyone in his life due to Alastor's inherent goodness and kindness which he hid beneath his rugged exterior.

'Oh....  Draco...  Draco...'  Alastor muttered over and over again as he used his great physical strength to work Draco up and down on his cock.  Draco was such a slim build it was fairly easy for him to take him this way.  Draco was like a living sex-doll sometimes, Alastor thought, and wondered if Draco would be offended by this...  The erotic and deeply needy moans and sighs he was making suggested he probably wouldn't be offended at all. 

Draco gripped his lovers broad shoulders tightly with his thin little hands.  He pressed his soft face against Alastor's scarred skin and Alastor shivered at the intensity as he felt Draco's breath against his neck, his hands on his shoulders and his legs squeezing him, while he buried his cock inside him. 

'Mmmmmmm....'  Alastor moaned as Draco bucked his hips assisting in the rhythm, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he squeezed Alastor's dick in his tight passage. 

Draco's own cock was rigid too, seeping precome from the tip.  With one of his large, calloused hands, Alastor took hold of Draco's perfect pink cock and began to tug it slowly in time with Draco's thrusts.  Draco's cock was just as lovely as the rest of him and Alastor fondled it  firmly but tenderly, loving the way Draco would twitch in ecstasy each time he flicked his thumb over the slit. 

The world outside of this room seemed to melt away as they made love, the heat and the intensity between them almost merging them as one. 

Draco was trying his best to hold back, but it was so hard.  It was almost impossible.  He was only 18 after all and his sex drive was extremely high, and it was almost as if Alastor had been deigned to please him it felt so good.  Draco stared at his lover, the world famous, weather-worn solider.  The brave, hard working and heroic Auror who fucked him with the same compulsion and dedication with which he did everything.  Fucked him like his life depended on it.  Although he wasn't frantic, simply skilful, powerful and thoroughly committed to the task.  Wholehearted and focused as thought nothing else in the world mattered. 

Alastor's cock filled Draco in ways he had only dreamt of before, but Draco already knew this.  He knew from the first time, that Alastor could hit a spot inside him which could take him over the edge like nothing else.  This time was no exception.  The wide head of Alastor's cock rammed Draco's prostate while the thick shaft filled his passage, stretching his ass open, overwhelming him physically and emotionally.  He had never felt so completely given over to another person.  Draco thought it was the most beautiful feeling in the world. 

Draco hadn't ever thought it was possible to come because of emotional stimulation, but he was almost sure it was the deciding factor that pushed him over the edge at that moment.  Everything felt so good physically, the way Alastor touched him, the way his thick meaty cock filled him up so perfectly, the slightly dirty smell of him, the scratchiness of his coarse hair...  It was all such a turn on, yet it was Draco's emotions that overpowered him.  He gave a rapturous cry as Alastor pushed hard inside him and Draco felt his balls tighten suddenly and his cock erupted with ribbons of pearly white come which covered Alastor's hand, and his shirt which he hadn't got around to removing. 

Alastor gasped, pleased and surprised that Draco had climaxed so fast.  He felt a secret sense of pride that he, old and somewhat worse of wear though he was, could satisfy a gorgeous 18 year old boy so competently and effectively.  Alastor would have considered himself to a little out of practice in the carnal arts but it seemed it was no problem as far as Draco was concerned!  He smiled, loving the odd sense of power he felt at having made Draco come so hard so quickly.  Making Draco come while he was inside him was almost as claiming as filling Draco's ass with come when he climaxed himself.  As Draco panted breathlessly and flopped against him, trembling in the wake of his orgasm, Alastor could feel that the boy was totally and utterly **his**.  Alastor thought this was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

It was Alastor's turn now.  He needed to feel that intense rush of passion and emotion that Draco had just felt and he knew just how he wanted to get there.  Firmly but gently he took hold of Draco's wrists and with a kind yet utterly commanding expression on his face he pushed Draco slowly down to the mattress so that he lay on his back.  Draco smiled through his still breathless gasps.  He was very happy like this.  He carefully placed the arches of his feet on the very edge of the bed, his legs open, his knees bent in a positively obscene position, the head of Alastor's cock still inside his asshole, tugging at the ring of muscle from the inside.

Alastor kept hold of Draco's wrists for a little.  There was something kinky about holding him this way.  There was a hint of the idea that he was holding him down, perhaps ever so slightly against his will...  Although Alastor was very much a good man, he had to admit he was not averse to a little kinky play and he was very much getting the impression that if Draco and he were together for any length of time it may well be something they could indulge in every now and then.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor thrust deep inside Draco once again sheathing the full length of his cock inside Draco's passage and Draco gave a howl which made Alastor very grateful that he had remembered to cast the silencing charm before they began!  He pulled back before driving into him again, pushing in as far as he could before pulling back, over and over again. 

Alastor could fuck like a machine and Draco screamed in delirious and giddy delight as his lover pounded him ferociously giving him the kind of fucking he had only ever dreamt of before.  Alastor moved his hands from Draco's wrists to his ankles.  He pushed his legs wider apart and his knees back so that they were almost touching his shoulders.  It was a good thing the boy was so young and flexible, Alastor thought.  He did look so good this way!

'Damn, you're one hot fuck, Malfoy!'  Alastor growled as he drilled Draco's oh-so accessible little asshole. 

Draco couldn't really reply, he whimpered a desperate response feeling scarily like he was going to come again so soon after the first time. 

Alastor dragged him a few inches closer to the edge of the bed and used some of his own body weight to keep Draco in place as he pounded down and into him.  Draco tried his best to grip the bed clothes to steady himself against the brute force of Alastor's violent fucking.

'Gods!  You look good on your back with my cock in your ass.'  Alastor rasped.  'You sure know how to take a dick, boy!' 

'Spoilt rich boys like me just love being fucked like sluts.'  Draco hissed back at him, enjoying a little dirty talk. 

'Well, I'll fuck you like a slut every damn day!'  Alastor replied in a grunting voice.  'You'll be my own personal whore, Malfoy!' 

'Gods!  Yes!'  Draco almost pleaded as he couldn't think of anything he'd like better.

'You're gonna be all mine, my precious little slut.'  Alastor gasped, losing himself in his lust.  'Your whole body, your soft sweet lips, your hot tight ass, every inch of you belongs to me...' 

'Yes!  Oh, yes!'  Draco cried. 

It was too much for Alastor.  Draco himself, his almost unbelievable beauty was such a gift that one simple encounter would have been enough to blow Alastor's mind.  This however, this was something else.  Draco's enthusiasm, his wanton desire, his utter delight at doing anything Alastor wanted him to do...  It was far too much!  Alastor felt his climax crash over him like a tidal wave and he gave a deep guttural groan as his whole body shuddered as he came deep inside his gorgeous young lover.  His cock pulsed and twitched as he shot his load in to Draco's willing asshole, suspecting that Draco loved being filled with his come almost as much as he loved filling him with it.  Alastor waited until every last drop of his fluid was spent before he even considered pulling out of his adorable little whore.  He wanted Draco to be wet with his come, wanted to sleep holding him, knowing that Draco's ass was still filled with his semen.  It was such a dirty and arousing thought and it meant that Draco was really, truly his.

Eventually, Alastor withdrew, by which time Draco was feeling rather uncomfortable and was glad to finally be able to move.  He was delighted still further when Alastor climbed up onto the bed beside him, pulled him close and they lay in silence, in post orgasmic bliss.     

The candles lighting the room had burned low and Alastor held Draco in his arms as they lay side by side on the bed, feeling content and happy.  Alastor was reminded of the night before last when they had lain this way and talked for some time.  He thought what a miracle it was that they even had the chance to be this way with each other again after all that had happened in the last 24 hours. 

'Draco...?'  He whispered gently at last. 

'Mmmm...?'  Draco responded. 

'Would you like to tell me what happened...  last night...?' 

There was a moments tense silence and then Draco sat up a little. 

'OK.'  he said bravely. 

It wasn't easy to tell Alastor about it.  Draco knew in his logical mind that he had done only what he needed to do as his best chance of surviving, and that he had taken a clever and cunning risk to avoid doing any more than was necessary...  But somehow he felt guilty too.  He had let someone else kiss him, let someone else see him naked, and in his heart he only wanted Alastor to do those things.  Letting someone else touch him, even for a moment, felt like betrayal to Draco, but Alastor did not seem to see it that way. 

As Draco spoke the difficult words, Alastor held him tightly, letting him know everything was alright.  Alastor didn't think badly of Draco at all.  Far from it, in fact.  The boy was a genius at espionage!  Some of the Ministry's best spies and undercover Aurors couldn't have pulled that off!  The fact that Draco's actions had resulted in the capture of a good number of wanted witches and wizards would mean that Draco would be rewarded too.  Alastor felt very proud and very impressed. 

'Well I always carry some emergency potions around with me.'  Draco explained as he concluded his story and saw the look of shock on Alastor's face.  'You don't spend half your childhood being hit by curses without learning a few back up plans, you know!  I was always good at potions.  I always carry the basics:  Healing potion, sleeping potion etc...'  Draco said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Alastor smiled and shook his head in amazement.

'You're so clever!'  He gasped.  'And brave!' 

'I don't know about that!'  Draco replied.  'I was absolutely terrified, but fortunately I'm pretty good at occulmancy too.' 

Alastor hugged him. 

'Yes, you are.  It's annoying.'  He muttered. 

Draco giggled. 

'Why...?  Do you want to know what I'm thinking?'  He asked.

'Yes.'  Alastor replied. 

'Well just then I was thinking how funny it was to see the looks on Potter and Weasley's faces when they saw us together.'  Draco grinned. 

Alastor laughed. 

'I think my friends were equally surprised.'  He confirmed.  'They'll all just have to get used to it.' 

Draco nodded happily and they lay back down to sleep, however after a moments silence Alastor spoke again. 

'Your Patronus...?'  He began. 

'A white peacock.'  Draco said.  'I'd never cast one before so I didn't know what it would be...  But that was it.  A pure white peacock.' 

'Beautiful, pale, elegant... and a bit of a show off!'  Alastor smiled.  'Very **you**.'   

Draco laughed a little.

'I guess so.'  He admitted.  'Plus we used to have them in the grounds of the manor.  Sometimes I think they were the only creatures there I actually liked.  They were certainly the closest thing I ever had to a pet.' 

Alastor kissed him softly. 

'What's yours?'  Draco asked suddenly. 

There was an awkward silence. 

'You're not going to like it.'  Alastor said. 

'Tell me!'  Draco pleaded. 

'Well, I've always liked them, you see...'  He began.  'I think they're cute, a bit like cats, only feistier...'  He paused.  'And I'm afraid it's not likely to change any time soon... because...  well, because now it reminds me of you, too...' 

'What is it!'  Draco asked both playfully and impatiently. 

Alastor sighed and he confessed,

'It's a ferret.'


	14. Debrief.

 

Fudge sat at a small writing desk in the tiny room which was being used for meetings.  It really was too small for anything else.  Beside him in a tatty armchair was Kingsley Shacklebolt and on the other side of the desk, Alastor sat on a rickety wooden chair.  A dining chair had been bought up from the kitchen for Draco.  Despite the makeshift office setting, it all felt very formal, and Draco found that he quite liked it.  He felt like a grown up.   He felt elevated above his peers because it was he who was called into the room to speak with the Minister.  It was he who had met the Dark Lord.   It was he who was the important one.  Draco had longed for a moment like this.  He had been momentarily vexed when Fudge had spoken to Potter and his friends first, but now it was Draco's turn.  Draco reminded himself it was because of **him** that the Minister had come here at all.  He held his head high as he walked into the meeting room.     

He tried not to look at Alastor too obviously as he came in and sat down opposite the Minister. 

‘Good morning Mr Malfoy.’  Fudge said politely.  ‘Do take a seat.’ 

‘Thank you.’  Draco replied sounding calm and ever so slightly aloof.

‘I have arranged this debrief meeting with you due to the fact that you were recently in the custody of the Dark Lord, and whilst we at the Ministry are well aware of the brave actions you took, it is important that we have the full story.  You are not being questioned, you are not in any kind of trouble.  Do you understand?’  Fudge said in a slightly patronising tone.

‘Perfectly.’ Draco said clearly and impetuously. 

‘Good.’  Fudge said.   ‘Can you tell us what happened Draco, from the time that you were captured?’

Draco drew himself up tall and looked directly at the Minister.

‘They found me in the forest after the werewolves attacked us and we got separated.   It was Bellatrix who found me, her and a couple of men.  I didn’t recognise them.  They said very little to me, any of them.   Only that they were going to take me before the Dark Lord. 

And that’s what they did.  They took me to an old house, a big place, not as big as Malfoy manor, but of reasonable stature non the less.’  Draco described.

‘I'm afraid I don’t know where it was.  They apparated me with them and didn’t tell me where they were going.’  He added with regret.

‘Anyway, they bought me before him.  He sits on a sort of throne, and they line the room on either side, I guess to be ready to attack if someone in my position made a wrong move.  There were probably 20 of them, I didn’t really have much choice about what to do.’  Draco explained.

‘What did you do?’  Kingsley asked.

‘I knelt before him.  Kissed the ground beneath his feet.  I thanked him, and the death eaters for rescuing me from the clutches of the Ministry.  I told him I was hardly worthy of such a great honour.’ 

Fudge looked shocked but Kingsley and Alastor both looked impressed. 

‘I didn’t know if he would believe me.’  Draco continued.  ‘He’s supposed to be a master of legillimens, but I’m fairly good at occulmency so I took my chance.  I figured he wasn’t stupid, but I guessed he was probably flatterable, people like that usually are.  I’m mean, he was up there sitting on this throne like he thinks he’s some kind of God or something!  So I grovelled like an adoring servant, stroked his ego a bit, and it worked like a charm.’  Draco grinned slyly. 

Now both Fudge and Kingsley looked impressed.  Alastor was already impressed with Draco but he had to admit he disliked the idea of Draco ‘adoring’ someone else, and he hadn’t liked the word ‘stroked’ either!

‘I knew it was my best chance of keeping any of my freedom.’  Draco said.  ‘And most importantly the best way to keep my wand!  If they took me as a prisoner they would have taken it from me and I would have been powerless.  But if they thought I was an ally they would want me to be armed so I could fight alongside  them.  But I knew I’d have to give them more than just a declaration of devotion in order to convince them.’  Draco explained.  ‘I would have to give them information of some kind to prove my loyalty.’

‘And what did you tell them?’  Kingsley asked inquisitively. 

‘Well, I didn’t know the coordinates for the safe house, so that was easy.   I didn’t even have to lie about it.  But I did know the coordinates for the Hut which Alastor and I were heading too that night.  So I told them **that** was where the escorted children were being taken and that it would be guarded by only two Aurors.  I suggested they mount an attack, kill the Aurors and take the children hostage.’  Draco said clearly. 

There was a stunned silence, so he continued.

‘The Dark Lord was pleased with this and he seemed to be taking some kind of liking to me.  He offered to reward me for my information.’  Draco told them.  ‘I told him the thing I wanted most was to bathe and have clean clothes.  For a moment I admit, I was afraid he might have insisted he bathe with me.  Like I say, he seemed to be taking a liking to me...  But it was OK.   He let me go alone.’ 

Alastor had felt himself bristle again as Draco had described this, even though he already knew what had happened, in more detail than Draco would disclose here.  He was certainly feeling very possessive of The Brat these days.  Perhaps because Draco wasn’t simply **The** Brat any more.  He was **his** Brat!

‘Its was once I was alone in the bathroom that I conjured the patronus.’  Draco said.  ‘I was scared because, although I knew about the charm, I’d never been taught it, least of all how to make it corporal and carry a message!’  He exclaimed.  ‘But I knew I had to do it right, otherwise Alastor would be there alone when they attacked.’  Draco said sincerely, trying not to reveal his feelings too soon. 

Alastor felt an overwhelming wave of tenderness wash over him.  Suddenly it annoyed him less that Draco had had to grovel to Voldemort. 

‘You did an amazing job!’  Kingsley replied with a smile.  ‘Your patronus went to Dumbledore, we were with him at the time.  The message wasn’t 100 percent clear but it was clear enough for us to act and know exactly what to do.  I, for one, am extremely impressed!’  Kingsley added.  ‘That is no easy spell to cast, and to get it so clear on a first attempt is beyond remarkable!’

Draco glowed with pride. 

‘Well it was important.’  He said modestly.  ‘And I had some happy memories fresh in my mind which I could draw on...’  He glanced at Alastor and felt himself beginning to blush a little. 

‘Then all I had to do was keep up the act until the attack.’  Draco said.  ‘And I think you know the rest.’  He concluded. 

‘Yes.  We do.’  Fudge replied.  ‘I must say, Mr Malfoy, I’m very impressed and I’ll admit, somewhat surprised at your bravery!  You’d make a fine Auror, I dare say!’ 

Draco smiled magnanimously. 

‘Thanks you Minister.’  He accepted the compliment.  ‘However, I don’t agree.  I’ve never been one for hard work, you see.’  Draco smiled.  ‘Besides, I don’t think Alastor would like to have to be my boss.’  Draco added. 

‘I'm sure he would get along just fine with you.’  Fudge said, knowing how purely professional his head Auror was!

‘Well that’s rather the problem I think, Minister.’  Draco clarified.  ‘Well **do** get on well.  In fact, Alastor and I are in a relationship.’  He said directly. 

Fudges eyes bulged and he did something of a double take, unsure if he had heard Mr Malfoy correctly.   He looked to his head Auror for confirmation. 

‘Its entirely my fault Minister...’  Draco continued.  ‘Alastor did everything he could to discourage me but the attraction was there.  Over the days we were together in the forest we sort of got to know each other and we grew closer.  Of course, you’ll admit there’s no wrong in it really, given that I am 18.  Alastor was worried about mixing business with pleasure of course but I’m afraid I was rather persistent.’  Draco smiled slickly.  ‘I'm also rather accustomed to getting what I want and although Alastor initially turned me down, he couldn’t fight it forever!  As I am, of course, irresistible.  And poor Alastor is only human.’  Draco concluded with a conceited smile which left Fudge quite unsure what to say next. 

Kingsley was suppressing a smirk behind his hand actually liking Draco more and more by the minute as he made Cornelius Fudge squirm.  He enjoyed seeing Alastor blush too, it wasn’t something he was used to seeing!

‘Is... is this true Alastor?’  Fudge asked after a pause. 

Alastor stood up slowly and went and stood behind Draco.  He rested one hand on his shoulder.

‘Yes Minister.’  He replied.  ‘Yes it’s true.’ 

‘I see.’  Said Fudge uncomfortably.  ‘Well I suppose Mr Malfoy is old enough to make his own decisions but I must say it reflects badly on you Alastor!  Becoming romantically involved with someone you are guarding, whilst on duty as head Auror!  I’m surprised at you I really am!’ 

‘I'm sure you’ll get over it the next time there’s a life threatening mission you want me to carry out.’ Alastor replied dryly and Kingsley nodded in solidarity.  Draco for his part was delighted that his lover was someone who would talk down to the Minister for Magic like that!  It was a huge turn on!

Fudge tried his best to ignore the comment, feeling outnumbered in the room. 

‘Well Mr Malfoy, your personal life aside, you have acted extremely bravely and courageously, taking a huge personal risk.  Your actions have resulted in the arrest of no less that nine of the Dark Lords key fighters.  The Ministry owes you a debt of gratitude.  You will of course be formally acknowledged for your actions at the next honours ceremony...’

Draco beamed with delight although he tried not to show it too much. 

‘However my immediate concern is with your safety.’  Fudge continued.  ‘If you weren't in enough danger before you certainly are now!  The Dark Lord will want vengeance and I very much doubt you could lie and charm your way out of trouble again.’ 

Draco’s smile faded.  He already knew this was true but it didn’t make hearing it any easier.  

‘In two days Harry Potter plans to return to Hogwarts.’  Fudge announced.  ‘It's thought that this will draw the Dark Lord out, and that a battle will take place.  Draco, you will stay here in this safe house.  This place is as well guarded as anywhere can be and if you are caught on the battlefield, I confess, I don’t like your chances.’ 

Draco was looking paler and paler by the second. 

‘Alastor, you will be needed to fight of course.’  Fudge said firmly.

Alastor nodded.  Draco looked at him with concern.  He hadn’t considered this sort of situation when he allowed himself to fall for an Auror!

‘Mr Malfoy, I thank you for speaking with me today.’  Fudge said assertively.  ‘You may go now and relax.  Shacklebolt, Moody, I will speak with you a little longer.’  He concluded.

Reluctantly Draco stood up and left the room, squeezing Alastor's hand for a second before he did. 

Draco had no way of knowing what was discussed after he left the room.  He could ask Alastor later but was certain he would simply tell him it was confidential Auror business.  Then they would probably argue about it.  And then they would fuck to make up again.  Draco smiled at the thought, but he still wouldn’t know that else Fudge had said.  

He sat downstairs with a book trying to distract himself but was more interested in trying to hear what Potter and his friends were talking about.  They were in the kitchen making themselves some food.  It was only the next room but try as he might Draco couldn’t catch a word.  He tried to look inconspicuous as they walked into the sitting room.

‘We can sit in here...’  Harry said as they walked in having not spotted Draco curled up in the armchair until it was too late. 

Ron looked horrified.  He had no desire to sit in the same room as Malfoy!

‘Oh!’  Harry exclaimed when he caught sight of the thin blond figure in the chair. 

Draco gave him a questioning look. 

‘Errrrrr.... Not disturbing you are we?’  Harry asked as they took their seats. 

‘I'm sure I’ll cope.’  Draco replied coldly. 

There was an awkward silence as they began to eat.

‘Cookie...?’  Hermione offered hopefully holding out a plate towards Draco.

Draco peered at the cookies suspiciously and curled up his nose. 

‘I don’t do carbs.’  He replied in a condescending tone and turned back to the book he was pretending to read. 

Fortunately the ice was broken when Kingsley, Alastor and Dawlish all came into the room. 

‘Hey! Draco!’  Kingsley beamed.  ‘The look on Fudges face!  You’re my hero, you know that!’ 

Draco tried not to glow too brightly as it would ruin his cool and aloof act, but inside he was doing somersaults of delight at being praised this way!  By Kingsley Shacklebolt!  And in front of Potter, too!

‘Why thank you Auror Shacklebolt.’  Draco replied politely but with a devious look. 

Alastor glanced at Draco.  It was still a little awkward being with him in front of other people.  Alastor didn’t quite know how to handle it. 

‘I'm going to make some tea.’  He announced, and hurriedly departed for the kitchen. 

‘Seriously Draco...’  Kingsley continued.  ‘You are one brave little fucker aren’t you!’  He laughed.  ‘Balls of steel, this boy!’  He said, to the room.  ‘Bullshits the Dark Lord, convinces him he’s a devoted servant, gives false information, sends a secret message to the Ministry and as a result...  Nine death eaters in jail!  You did good, kid!  You did good.’ 

Draco stood up calmly. 

‘Its was nothing.’  He said, his voice dripping with false modesty.  ‘I just did what anyone would have done in my place.’ 

‘Not everyone’s that smart... or devious!’  Kingsley replied.  ‘See, us Slytherins have our good points, you know!  It wasn’t “ _nothing_ ” it was one quality piece of espionage if you ask me, kid!’ 

‘Thank you.’  Draco replied in his most mature voice.  ‘But you probably shouldn’t call me “kid” like that.  It doesn’t reflect well on Alastor, does it?’ 

‘And that...’  Kingsley beamed, close to Draco’s face, ‘Is precisely why I’m going to keep doing it!  You wouldn’t believe the stick that man has given me over the years and now I can finally get something of my own back!  That’s another reason why you’re my hero.’ 

Both Kingsley and Dawlish laughed and Draco gave them a wry smile and shook his head. 

‘You Aurors!’  He exclaimed with a playful role of his eyes as he slipped into the kitchen to help Alastor, feeling 10 foot tall!  There were no three people in all the world he would rather have had witness that scene than Potter, Weasley and Granger!

‘Did he really do all that?’  Ron asked, aghast. 

‘Yeah.’  Kingsley confirmed.  ‘Pretty impressive, huh?’ 

‘I guess so...’  Harry mused a little suspiciously.  ‘But, hang on!  If he lied so convincingly to Voldemort how do we know he’s not lying to us?  It could be a double bluff, couldn’t it!’ 

Dawlish and Kingsley looked unconvinced. 

‘It would be some bloody elaborate subterfuge!’  Kingsley answered.  ‘And I doubt anyone could have persuaded the Dark Lord to lose nine of his best followers, even as a calculated risk!’ 

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. 

‘But Malfoy’s not brave!’  Ron exclaimed.  ‘He’s a right cowardly little worm!’   

Kingsley laughed. 

‘Well he can certainly be brave when he wants to be!’  He replied.  ‘Maybe Mad-Eye has inspired him?’ 

‘I don’t even wanna know what he’s inspired Mad-Eye to do!’  Dawlish interrupted and he and Kingsley both laughed while Ron and Harry looked very uncomfortable with the whole concept. 

‘Never thought I’d see Mad-Eye with a boyfriend!’  Dawlish continued. 

‘He used to date, years ago.’  Kingsley recalled.  ‘Never anything very serious I don't think, and he’s got so paranoid over the years... he doesn’t trust anyone enough to get close.  I just love the irony that he’s with a Slytherin  son of a death eater!’  He exclaimed with great amusement.  ‘I'm happy for him though, I mean, we all need a bit of action now and again, don’t we?’ 

Dawlish laughed. 

‘Uggghh!! Please!  That’s disgusting!’  Ron exclaimed, making the two Aurors laugh again.

‘I'm gonna go get some tea.’ Dawlish said standing up.

                                                        *                             *                            *

In the kitchen Draco had been keen to be reunited with Alastor after the debrief.  He had slipped into the room quietly with a little greeting...

‘Hey...’

Alastor turned round from the kettle.  He stared at Draco for a moment. 

‘Come here.’  He barked. 

Draco immediately did as he was told and Alastor pulled him roughly into his arms, leaning him back against the kitchen side.  Draco smiled flirtatiously as he put his arms around Alastors thick waist. 

‘You told the Minister.’  Moody observed. 

‘Everyone else already knows.’  Draco said impassively.  ‘Better he hears it first hand.’

Alastor grunted in reluctant agreement. 

‘And I told him it was all my fault.’  Said Draco nobly. 

‘You also told him I was unable to resist you!’  Alastor replied. 

‘Well you can’t, can you?’  Draco grinned as he moved one hand up to Alastor's neck and into his messy hair. 

‘Shut up, Brat!’  Alastor replied in a gruff whisper. 

‘Why don’t you make me?’  Draco whispered in a smouldering voice. 

They moved into a deep and affectionate kiss instantly, no teasing first.  Mouths open they explored each other with their tongues, lips working hungrily against each other, hands roaming freely up and down their bodies... 

It was just at that moment that Dawlish appeared in the doorway.

‘Whoah!  Boss, please!  Get a room!’  He laughed loudly, a comment which was met by a rowdy cheer from Kingsley in the sitting room. 

Alastor and Draco stopped kissing and Draco, looking adorably shy, smiled and hid his face against Alastor's chest. 

Alastor gave Dawlish a sarcastic look.  He knew he was never going to hear the end of this from his team!  He half released Draco who picked up their mugs of tea.  Alastor with one arm still around Draco's waist, led him over to the door.

‘Alright!  Settle down!  This isn’t a locker room you know!’  Alastor reminded Dawlish and Kingsley. 

They followed his instruction of course but had no intention of letting him off the hook quite that easily in the long run!

Harry watched, brow furrowed, as Mad-Eye Moody made his way to the one vacant armchair.  Malfoy stood back obediently, almost like a servant, as Mad-Eye sat down.  Then he carefully handed him his tea, offering the mug handle towards Moody so that it was easy for him to take it, probably burning his own fingers in the process.  Mad-Eye gave him nothing more than a curt nod of his head in thanks.   Draco gave him in return, an adoring smile before settling himself on the floor at Alastor's feet. 

It all seemed to happen very naturally but Harry stared in surprise and fascination.  There was something so subservient about it, it was almost obscene!  As Mad-Eye slipped his free hand into Malfoy’s blond hair, Malfoy smiled dreamily and seemed somewhere between a servant and a lap dog.   It was both disconcerting and bizarre!   Just what on earth was Malfoy playing at?


	15. Veritaserum.

 

'Well I don't trust him!'  Harry exclaimed vehemently, once he Ron and Hermione were alone. 

'He did take a huge risk, lying to Voldemort like that.'  Hermione mused.  'I don't know what game he's playing if he isn't being genuine.' 

'He's not being genuine!'  Harry snapped.  'I don't think Malfoy would know genuine emotions if he fell over them.  I don't know what he's playing at but he's definitely playing at something!' 

'Perhaps he thinks old Mad-Eye is rich?'  Ron suggested.  'Thinks he's got a huge fortune hidden away somewhere after all his years of service?  Maybe that's what he's after?' 

'Or he's a double agent.'  Harry said coldly.  'Snape all over again.  He said he lied to Voldemort but how do we know?  What if he's playing both sides off against each other?' 

'And breaking professor Moody's heart in the process.'  Hermione whispered. 

There was a cold silence. 

'We need to find out.'  Harry said decidedly.  'If he's using him for his money or if he's actually working for Voldemort, we need to find out.' 

'And how exactly do we do that?'  Ron scoffed.  'He's not just going to tell us, is he?' 

'Yes.'  Hermione said coolly.  'That's exactly what he'll do.' 

                       *                             *                          *                                *                               *

Ron and Hermione hid under the invisibility cloak in the corner of the sitting room.  They had decided it was best if only one of them spoke to Malfoy.  Harry had drawn the short straw. 

Harry had poured his own tea into a self renewing cup, he didn't want to have to top up from the pot once he had emptied the entire vial of Veritaserum into it!  The tea in the pot was now for Malfoy's consumption only! 

The minister had left and Remus and the Aurors were upstairs making further plans.  They had been doing this for some time.  Draco had returned upstairs for a while, to make the most of having a proper bedroom and a bathroom at long last.  Although it still fell short of his exacting standards, it was better than much of what had been available recently.  He had spent much of the day since the debrief, washing, preening and pampering himself, but he wondered downstairs at a perfectly opportune moment, in the middle of the afternoon, just as Harry was about to take a sip of tea. 

'Hey Malfoy.'  Harry said, not wanting to sound too friendly and give the game away. 

'Afternoon.'  Draco replied coldly. 

'Is it?'  Harry replied jovially trying to sound relaxed and as if he were not even aware of the time of day.  'Want some tea?' 

Draco **did** want some tea, and what was more he didn't want to have to make it himself, so with a reluctant but accepting sigh, he sat on the sofa next to Potter, conceding to have tea with him.

Harry felt like he had taken Felix Felicis, this was all going so well!  He poured a cup of tea for Draco, who fell straight into the trap and drunk it all in one go.  Harry refilled it.  Malfoy would have had more than enough Veritaserum now.  He would probably tell him anything! 

'So...  you and Mad-Eye Moody, then?'  Harry asked directly.  'What's all that about?' 

Draco gave a light, musical laugh. 

'I really don't see why everyone is so shocked!'  He exclaimed.  'I mean, I could hardly be expected to spend all that time alone with him and **not** fall for him, could I?' 

'Errrrr....'  Harry didn't quite know what to say.  'So, you actually really like him then?'  He asked.  'You're not just after his money?' 

Draco stared at him for a moment and then smiled. 

'You know what, Potter?'  He beamed.  'I've always thought you were a total prick, do you know that?  But it's funny, sitting here right now, I feel like I can tell you anything!' 

Harry tried to gloss over being called a prick and carried on with the task at hand. 

'So tell me about you and Mad-Eye Moody, then.'  He prompted.  'Are you after his money or what?' 

Draco laughed again. 

'Potter, you may have failed to notice, but I'm fabulously, fantastically, filthy rich!  And now, with my parents in jail.  Well!...  Just wait till I get back to London and get to Gringotts!  I'm going drain their accounts dry, just you watch me.  If they ever get out of Azkaban they won't have a galleon to their names!' 

Draco smiled a truly wicked smile before he continued. 

'So you see, I've absolutely no need to be with someone for any other reason than,...  being deliriously in love with them!' 

As Draco spoke these words, he clasped his hand over his heart and glanced up at the ceiling, his grey eyes wide, and a dreamy expression on his face.  Under the invisibility cloak, Hermione tried not to laugh as she was vividly reminded of the way Lavender Brown used to talk about Ron. 

'Oh.'  Harry replied.  'So it's for real, then?'  He felt a little awkward if it was! 

'Oh, It's **so** real!'  Draco gushed.  He leant in towards Harry.  'Potter, you just wouldn't believe how amazing he is!  I mean, he's so brave and so courageous...  You'd never know he was a Hufflepuff!  I mean, he's so successful!  Head Auror!  Leader of the advanced guard!  But then, he does work hard for things.  He's so dedicated!' 

Harry was a little stunned at this outburst and was horrified when Draco finished his second cup of tea and poured another. 

'And he's so handsome too!'  Draco continued.  'He's so real, so rugged and manly!  Not just some pretty boy!  He's not like anyone I've ever dated before, honestly!  None of them even come close, know what I mean?' 

Harry's eyes were wide with horror as Draco took another long sip of tea. 

'He's just so great, Potter, honesty!  I can't understand why he's not been snapped up long ago.  It's just all so good!  All of it!  He's so strong!  He can literally pin me down on the bed so I can't even move!  It's amazing!'  Draco exclaimed and Harry wanted to curl up and die. 

'And don't let the false leg and things fool you, he can still do everything... and I mean **everything**!'  Draco continued passionately.  'I don't mind telling you Potter, the sex is amazing!  Literally **amazing**!' 

Under the cloak in the corner, Ron bit down hard on his clenched fist.

'Errr...  OK.'  Harry gasped.  'I think you should stop...'  He began. 

'Really, Potter, he's the best I've ever had!'  Draco said, staring up at the ceiling with a dizzy and thoroughly loved up expression on his face.  'He's strong and powerful, like he could make me do anything he wanted and I wouldn't be able to resist.  But he's so kind, so goodhearted too, I can trust him not to hurt me.  I'd let him do **anything** to me, you know, Potter.  I really would.  He's just incredible.  You know, he makes me come harder than I ever have before!' 

'Oh gods!'  Was all the response Harry could manage. 

'I know!'  replied Draco, thinking Harry was encouraging him.  'Seriously, the first time, was like... Wow!  Mind blowing!  I mean, it started off gentle, kissing, caressing and all of that.  All very spontaneous too, it just sort of happened.  Pure chemistry, pure attraction, I guess.  He was so careful with me at first, made sure I was ok.  But once we started...  Merlin's balls, Potter!  He was just throwing me around like a rag doll!  He pounded me so hard from behind, he was like a machine!  It was so good!  And he just went on and on!  Like he'd taken a stamina potion or something!  Seriously, he nearly wore me out!  And that, I promise you, is no easy task!  Honestly, I think I still have carpet burns on my knees from that time!  I could show you...' 

'NO!'  Harry yelped.  'No.  Don't.  I believe you!'  He squeaked.

'I love him so much, Potter.  How could I not?  I don't know if he loves me back yet...'  Draco mused a little sadly.  'But I hope that one day he will.  I'm going to keep playing my cards right!  Do you think he will, Potter?  Ever love me, I mean?'  Draco asked anxiously, clasping Harry's hand.

'Errr.... Yes?'  He said hopefully, praying that this would be the end of the conversation.

'Do you really think so?'  Draco gushed. 

'Well he certainly seems to like you.'  Harry replied, his voice almost robotic.  'I don't think he'd get involved with you if he didn't.  He's not the type.' 

Draco beamed. 

'You're right, Potter.'  He said standing up at last.  'You know what Potter?  You are far less of a prick than I thought.  We should talk again some time.  But for now I need some more lunch.  I need to keep my strength up for tonight!' 

Draco smiled, and to Harry's great relief, he disappeared into the kitchen in search of food. 

A thoroughly traumatised Harry grabbed the teapot and cup and rushed upstairs, closely followed by Ron and Hermione who helped him dispose of the evidence of veriteserum. 

'Well.'  Ron announced.  'You wanted the truth Harry, mate!  That was, without question, the funniest thing I have **ever** heard!' 

'I'm **so** sorry Harry.'  Hermione whispered feeling guilty for having had the idea in the first place. 

White as a sheet, Harry gave no response. 

'Well at least we know why Malfoy's seeing Mad-Eye!'  Ron laughed.  'Because apparently old Mad-Eye is a dynamo in the sack!' 

'Never again.'  Harry muttered. 

Hermione sat down beside him on the edge of the bed. 

'I promise, we'll **never** use Veritaserum again!'  She assured. 

Harry shook his head. 

'I can **never** look at professor Moody the same way again.'  Harry clarified, cringing.

Downstairs, Draco who has responded to the Veritaserum like it was an intense hit of alcohol, made his way to the kitchen and ate twice as much as he would normally have eaten in a day, before feeling the overwhelming need to go back upstairs and lie down as the potion began to wear off.              


	16. Pre-Battle Talks.

 

They had tried to avoid talking about it the night before.  Both of them.  Neither Alastor or Draco had been willing to discuss what was coming.  Draco had been brave enough to put in a longer appearance that evening, staying downstairs not only for dinner, but to sit around the fire with everyone too. At  first he stayed mostly to further torment Potter by being overly affectionate to Alastor.  Draco had soon realised that Potter must have slipped him a truth telling potion that afternoon.  Once he was over his embarrassment and anger he was quite amused about it as he remembered how embarrassed and mortified Potter had been when he heard the answers to his questions! 

Draco sat cuddled up to Alastor who kept his arm around his shoulder, holding him close.  Draco might have been there with mischievous intentions at first, but as the evening wore on he found he was enjoying himself more and more.  Potter was a bit of a sap yes, but he was quite funny with it.  Even witless Weasley was quite entertaining in his way.  Granger was as lacking in sense of humour as Draco had always imagined.  Honestly, to think people accused him of being highly strung!  He was positively laid back compared to her! 

Kingsley was good company and Draco felt a certain natural affinity to him because he was a pure blood, because he was well dressed and stylish, and a little aristocratic, although he clearly played it down in order to keep pace with the likes of Dawlish.  Remus was alright too and Draco found him easy enough to talk to once he started to put aside his fear of half breeds. 

All in all, everyone surprised themselves with what a pleasant evening they had.  In spite of any past differences they all seemed to bond on some level that night.  There was something terrible coming.  Something that unified them.  Tomorrow they would go to Hogwarts.  Tomorrow there would be a great battle.  There would be a winner and a loser and the outcome of this battle would shape their futures, even decide if they had futures at all.  However, as they sat around the fire that evening, no one wanted to talk about it. 

Even once Alastor and Draco got upstairs to their room they didn’t talk about it.  Instead they undressed in near silence and got into bed.  They made love with needy desperation, trying to pretend but unable to ignore the fact, that they were scared this could be the last time. 

When morning came Alastor let Draco sleep late.  Perhaps he should have woken him but it was easier to get things ready, to focus on the task at hand if he wasn’t looking at Draco and feeling reminded of everything he might lose. 

Alastor briefed Harry, Hermione and Ron as though they were already Aurors, giving them every battle tip he knew, every piece of advice he could give them.  He reassured them that the Order of the Phoenix and the Aurors and the Ministry team of regular officers would be in place ready to do their bit.  They were not going into this fight alone! 

Kingsley, Dawlish and Remus supported him, Dawlish was more sombre than anyone had ever seen him.  This battle was going to be the big one. 

Draco was a little disappointed and cross to wake up alone but in his heart he understood why Alastor had needed to take care of business without him there.  It was for the same reason he had needed to take off Alastor's old sweater when he went to face Voldemort.  It was easier to be brave and hard faced if you could put your soft and tender feelings aside and remove the distraction of that which made you feel most vulnerable.  

Draco dressed and made his way down stairs.  He arrived just as Remus was welcoming in four Hogwarts students escorted by one Auror.  They were some of the children from the original escort mission.   The young Auror hurriedly explained how complications in the journey meant they never made it to the safe house. 

Remus explained that Auror Moody and Draco Malfoy had also encountered difficulties and were also here.  The terrified kids were ushered into the front room. 

Draco watched the scene feeling oddly detached from reality.  Then Remus turned and saw him. 

‘Where’s Alastor?’  Draco asked at once.

‘He’s giving orders to the regular Ministry guards.’  Remus replied. 

He had spoken in quite a business like straight forward way and he noticed Draco’s face flinch with fear and his eyes looked a little cloudy.  Remus felt a wave of empathy for him.  The kid had been such a little horror when he had taught him it was hard to imagine him being any different now, but clearly he was. 

Remus approached him and rested his hands on Draco’s shoulders and looked at him kindly. 

‘He wants to see you.’  He said with great conviction.  ‘He wants to get all of the work done first and then he wants to see you alone.’ 

Draco nodded bravely and Remus was prompted to give him a brief friendly hug.  

‘He’ll be alright.’  Remus said, for his own benefit as much a Draco’s.  ‘We all will be.  Trust me, I was your teacher, remember?’ 

He was pleased with himself that he managed to get a smile from Draco.  

‘I remember.’  Draco replied.  ‘Not sure I believed a word you said back then though.’  He grinned. 

‘Perhaps you do now?’ Remus asked. 

‘I'm trying to believe we’ll all be alright.’  Draco said softly.  

‘Keep on trying.’  Remus encouraged him kindly. 

Draco returned to the upstairs room.  He felt too queasy to have anything to eat and he had no particular desire to spend any time with the children who had just arrived.  They were all younger than him and he was not a child anymore, not at all.  He had nothing to say to them. He had nothing to say to anyone except Alastor, so he went upstairs and waited restlessly. 

It was late afternoon when the door to the bedroom finally opened and Alastor returned.  Draco leapt up from the bed at once.  Alastor leant heavily on his staff, he looked tired and he looked anxious.   For a split second Draco wanted to plead with him not to go and to simply run away with him instead, but he knew deep down that wasn’t an option. 

‘I'm sorry I was so long.’  Alastor said sincerely. 

‘It's OK.’  Draco replied. 

Alastor shook his head and beckoned Draco to come to him.  Draco did so and Alastor pulled him into a tight embrace. 

‘It's not OK.’  Alastor apologised again.  ‘You've been on your own.’ 

‘You’re here now.’  Draco whispered. 

‘Come outside...’  Alastor said gently.  ‘Let’s get some air and a bit of space.’ 

Draco nodded.  It was a good idea.  The house certainly felt a lot more crowded now that the other young people had been bought there and Draco had been indoors all day, he would welcome the air.  They couldn’t go outside of the protection charm of course, but it was still better than nothing.   

It was cold outside and Draco was glad of his thick coat and he was glad of Alastor's arm around him too.  They walked slowly tracking a circle around the shrieking shack leaving foot prints in the freshly fallen snow.  Alastor smiled as he noticed Dawlish pull the youngster Colin Creavy away from the window as he was watching them mouth open in disbelieve.   Alastor could almost hear Dawlish barking at him to mind his own business and give them some space.  Dawlish might have been a bit of a joker at times but he was a decent person at heart.  Alastor couldn’t help but smile fondly.  He had many good colleagues, he only hoped he would still have them this time tomorrow.  

He turned his thoughts to Draco, but he found he didn’t really know what to say to him.  This situation was so unfamiliar, all of it.  Draco felt the same and as a result they walked in silence much as they had done before. 

The sky was slowly darkening and suddenly Draco was gripped by fear.  It was all very well ignoring it while they could, but soon the time would be upon them and if they didn’t face things soon it would be too late.  Draco didn’t quite know what to say to Alastor but he couldn’t bear the thought that they might not say anything at all.  He sobbed out loud in fear. 

Alastor stopped walking at once and flung his arms around Draco and Draco buried his face against Alastor's coat.  He breathed in the smell of him, felt his coarse hair against his face and treasured the feeling of his big strong hands on his back. 

‘I'm going to have to go and fight.’  Alastor said gently.  ‘But you know what, I’ve fought before, I’m told I’m pretty good at it.  I’ll be alright.’ 

He wasn’t sure of this of course, but self-believe was the only way to survive any ordeal and Alastor knew it. 

‘I’ll come with you!’  Draco exclaimed.  ‘I can fight you know.  I can’t let you go alone.’ 

Alastor shook his head. 

‘I won’t be alone.  I’ll be with some of the best fighters there are.  I need you to stay here.  If you are there I’ll be worried about defending you, I’ll...’

‘I can defend myself!’  Draco replied desperately.  ‘I've spent my whole life defending myself!  I’m good at it!’ 

‘I know.’  Alastor said.  ‘But I really need you to stay here.  I need to know you're safe.  If you come up to Hogwarts I’ll be so worried about you that I’ll make mistakes.  Please try to understand.  I need to know you're safe.’ 

Tears in his eyes Draco reluctantly nodded.  He did understand but it didn’t mean he was happy about it.  

Alastor kissed him softly and gently brushed the tears off his face.  Draco smiled as their lips met. 

Alastor looked at him in the twilight.  There was still something else that needed to be said.  He coughed awkwardly.  It wasn’t easy. 

‘Draco....’ He began in a serious tone.  ‘I have every intention of us winning up there you know...’ 

He glanced up at the mighty silhouette of the castle in the distance. 

‘I have every intention of surviving and of coming back for you the moment it’s over...’ 

Draco nodded, smiling as best as he could. 

Alastor continued.

‘But if I don’t survive, then I want you to know that you have meant more to me in these few days than anyone else has meant to me in my entire life.’ 

The words weren’t easy to say.  Alastor's voice was rather unpractised at terms of endearment, but Draco smiled at him. 

‘And I want you to know, if you **do** survive out there, **when** you come back, **I’ll marry you**.’  Draco said confidently and calmly. 

Alastor looked shocked and delighted in equal parts.  That had not been the reply he was expecting! 

He was just about to try to fathom a reply when he heard Kingsley's voice from the door,

‘Come on, boss!  It’s time to go.’ 

Draco looked at Alastor's his eyes sparkling and frightened but he nodded and reached up and kissed him softly. 

‘Go.’ He whispered, his voice trembling as he tried his best to be brave.  


	17. The Battle Of Hogwarts

 

Alastor was no stranger to battles of all kinds, but even by his standards, this battle was of an epic scale.  The enemy was huge in number and the whole scene was made stranger still by the fact that many of the fighters were children.  Alastor had never been happy with civilians on the battlefield, it was simply one more thing to worry about.  He had a strong desire to protect the innocent, and that wasn't easy when they were running around and getting in the crossfire. 

He focused hard, and once the battle began he employed his many practiced tactics to overpower and defeat numerous death eaters.  As many of them were known to him he was able to pick out some of the most dangerous adversaries and take them on himself, hoping this would go some way towards keeping them from attacking children.

He tracked and pursued some of the most dangerous death eaters, determined to catch up with them, disarm and detain them.  Deeper into the castle he followed them until they disappeared from his sight in a dark corridor. 

Pulse racing, Alastor looked about him.  Where could they have disappeared to?  Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement, disappearing behind a door into a small room.  That was them.  It must be.  He had them cornered! 

Wand raised, Alastor rushed into the room ready to attack, however, he found the room empty...  Or so it seemed.  It was dark, even with his magical eye he could see no one...  Until it was too late!    

The jet of light from Rosier's wand hit Alastor like a bolt of lightning and from the second it hit him the torture was all consuming. 

Alastor had been hit by torture curses before but this was like nothing he had never experienced.  It was so forcefully cast, so cruel, so vindictive.   To cast the cruciatus curse you have to mean it.  Evan Rosier really, really meant it.  But that was hardly surprising.  Alastor had killed his older brother after all.  Rosier has every intention of killing Alastor, but not right away.  Simply killing this Auror would be a waste.  Rosier wanted to make it last as long as possible. 

Alastor could not even have begun to describe the pain.  He was no stranger to pain of course, his various injuries over the years giving him plenty of experience.  This curse, it was as if he were experiencing each of those injuries all over again simultaneously, and more besides.  Every type of pain he had ever experienced along with other types he hadn’t known even existed, assaulted every inch of his body, inside and out.  His flesh felt as if it were being torn from his muscles, the searing agony nearly unhinging him until the point it almost stopped existing.  Then it was as if he were thrown into a vat of salt, his skinless flesh naked, and the wave of excruciating torture hit once more.  He could not live through this, it couldn’t be possible.  His organs were haemorrhaging in pain, he could feel them...   He tried to resist. 

This was how the cruciatus curse worked after all.  It could kill a person because when they felt the pain they eventually believed they were dying and their bodies gave up fighting.  Alastor would not go that way.  He simply would not.  He had not come so far as a solider to end it this way.  Somewhere in the back of his mind was the grain of hope that if he didn’t die under this torture curse, Rosier would have to stop for a second at least at cast the killing curse.  If Alastor could recover himself quickly enough there was a chance he could attack Rosier and prevent this.  It was a very, very slim chance and the longer the pain went on the smaller and smaller that chance became.  

Then the visions started.   Alastor knew this meant he was losing.  Losing the battle for mental control.  He saw the faces of his parents, saw their deaths, felt the pain of every word he never had the chance to say to them.  He saw, over and over, the deaths of his colleagues, deaths he always felt he could have prevented.  He saw his friends being tortured, heard their screams all over again.  Then, he saw friends dying who he knew to be alive!  Had they been killed now too...?  He saw Draco beaten and bloody, kneeling, trembling before a tall figure who loomed over him pointing a wand... 

‘No!’  Alastor cried, but his voice was incoherent through his agonised screams. 

The vision continued.  Draco raised his head.   He was bruised and cut and shaking all over.  He staggered to his feet. 

Alastor tried to scream again. 

The figure of Voldemort raised its wand again, surely to kill his precious Draco...  But then Alastor gasped through his agony, as Voldemort cast not a killing curse or a torture curses but a healing spell!  Suddenly the vision of Draco was no longer cut and dirty but was clean and well and he was smiling!  The figure of Voldemort extended his hand to Draco and Draco took it willingly.  He pulled Draco into an embrace.  He kissed him and then the two of them were laughing, laughing aloud as they embraced each other, Voldemort’s strong muscular form against Draco’s delicate one.  The vision of Draco looked directly at Alastor, a cruel smile on its face.  It continued to laugh, laugh right at him.  How could Alastor, the wretched old cripple that he was, ever have believed for a moment that someone like Draco Malfoy could love him? 

Alastor felt himself letting go....

‘Avada Kedavra!’ 

A high pitched voice cried.  There was a flash of green light. 

For a split second Alastor thought the curse must have hit him.  He had certainly resigned himself to death the moment before it happened and now the pain had stopped...  It was fading at least...

Alastor couldn’t move and his vision was blurred, he writhed helplessly on the floor as he realised; he hadn’t been killed, his attacker had!  But who had cast the spell? 

‘Alastor!’  A frantic voice cried. 

It was the same voice that had cast the killing curse on Rosier.  Alastor knew that funny little high pitched boys voice.  It made his heart sing.  Just hearing it seemed to be healing him...

Suddenly someone was beside him and they were taking him into their arms.  A soft hand was caressing his face. 

‘Alastor!  Oh gods, Alastor please don’t be dead!’  the voice sobbed passionately.  

‘Please don’t die.  Stay with me, please just stay with me!’ 

Alastor fought to open his eyes and to focus on the person who was speaking.  Every word they said gave him strength and if only they would keep holding him that way, maybe he could be saved...? 

Alastor struggled to open his eyes and as he did the blurry image of a boy's face looking down at him slowly became clearer and clearer.   The boy was pale and seemed almost luminescent.  He had hair made from silver and gold, he had eyes like stars...  Perhaps Alastor was wrong.  Perhaps he had died.  Perhaps this boy was his guardian angel welcoming him to heaven...? 

When Alastor's eyes opened and he held focus on the boy, the boys eyes filled with tears of gratitude. 

‘Oh Alastor!’  He exclaimed.  ‘Alastor look at me!  You’re alright!  Tell me you’re alright!’  The angel pleaded. 

Alastor felt more and more alright the longer he looked into the boys beautiful face...  but he couldn’t be an angel, could he?  An angel would **know** that Alastor was alright... 

The boy, who was probably not an angel after all, leant down until his face was against Alastor's.  Their tears mingled on Alastor's cheeks as the boy sobbed.  Who **dare** make this boy cry...?  Alastor wondered angrily, his strength returning. 

He raised a hand and placed it on the boys hand which rested on his chest.  The boys sobbing redoubled. 

‘Oh Alastor!  I thought I was too late!  I thought you were....’  He stopped.  He couldn’t finish the sentence. 

The boy then pressed his lips softly over Alastor's mouth in a gentle yet passionate kiss.  It was suddenly pretty certain that he wasn’t an angel after all.

Alastor's memories suddenly started flooding back.  His mind cleared and the memories of the torture began to leave his body.  His mussels relaxed and his body realised it wasn’t dying.  His hand gently caressed the boys face, and he kissed him back until the boy slowly pulled back and looked at him, smiling through his tears. 

‘Draco...’  Alastor managed to utter.  ‘Draco, what happened?’ 

‘I...  I killed him....’  Draco stammered, clearly terrified by what he had done.  ‘I didn’t mean to do it I just panicked.   I thought he was going to kill you...  I just shouted the first spell I could think of...  I’ve never done it before...’  He sobbed with fear.  ‘But I hated him, so, much!  Especially when I saw him hurting you.’ 

Alastor squeezed Draco’s hand. 

‘He nearly **did** kill me.  A second later and he would have done.   You saved my life.’ 

Draco sobbed again and hugged Alastor tightly. 

‘But you're so hurt!’  He cried into Alastor's chest.  ‘They’ve hurt you so badly.’ 

Alastor was about to respond when he suddenly remembered, Draco wasn’t even supposed to be there!

‘You were supposed to stay at the shrieking shack!’ Alastor exclaimed.  ‘What happened?  You're injured!'  Alastor exclaimed, noticing a cut on Draco's face and a scrap of fabric he had roughly tied around his hand and wrist.  'How come you're here?’  he asked, in shock.    

‘They attacked the shrieking shack.’  Draco told him.  ‘Not many of them, but a few.  The other kids ran away.  I figured I could either die on my own at the shack or I could come up here and die with you.’  He sobbed deeply into Alastor's coat. 

Summoning all of his strength, Alastor pushed himself up into a seated position. 

‘What do you mean “die with me”?’  He asked, reaching for his staff.  ‘I have no intention of dying!’ 

He pushed himself up onto his feet and extended his hand to Draco and helped him up. 

‘You don’t?’  Draco whispered in wonder. 

‘Certainly not.’  Alastor confirmed.  ‘I can’t die today.  I’m getting married!’  He replied. 

Draco gasped with joy and he flung himself into Alastor's arms.   Draco’s love had healed Alastor well enough for the moment at least and Alastor hugged him back tightly. 

‘Stay close to me.’  Alastor instructed Draco.   ‘Stay back to back, that way we can see attackers on all sides...’ 

Draco nodded, his heart racing. 

Alastor steadied his nerves.  It wouldn’t be easy, fighting alongside a civilian, especially not one he was in love with, but it was the way it had to be.  It was their best chance of surviving this battle. 

Draco, who was not naturally brave in a combat situation, steadied his own nerves.  He reminded himself of all the times he had heard his aunt and her friends boast about battles they had been in.  He had seen them practice sometimes.  He knew some of their moves.  The time had come to use that knowledge. 

They looked at each other and nodded.

Back to back so that they could cover each other, they moved from the secluded room into the throes of the battle once again. 

Draco would never get used to battles, he knew that clearly now.  The noise, the mess, the chaos everywhere...  He could hardly follow what was happening and he hated every moment of it.  How could Alastor have made a career out of this sort of thing?  Draco wondered in awe and disbelief.  Perhaps it made more sense once you had training...?  Although he doubted it did. 

Despite Draco's fears, the two of them together seemed to fall into a natural pattern whereby Alastor was responsible for attacking and disarming opponents, Draco covering defence.  Draco was glad of this as he didn't trust himself not to panic and cast the same spell he should not have cast on Rosier.  However, defence was something he could do.  He was excellent at it.  Lightning fast reactions and a more comprehensive range of blocking spells and counter curses than most Aurors, Alastor noticed.  After a few minutes, Draco became more confident in his ability.  There weren't many jinxes he couldn't block after all.  Growing up around Aunty Bella and her death eater friends had its advantages at long last! 

Draco was able to block and even to disarm as they fought their way through, overpowering more and more of Voldemort's forces as they went until eventually they found themselves overlooking the courtyard where a crowd had assembled and two figures could be seen, facing each other. 

Draco recognised both of them and he wasn't fond of either!  Of course, although the petty school-boy part of him was loathed to admit it, he didn't hate Potter the way he hated Voldemort.  Potter was an idiot in Draco's mind, but Voldemort was the driving force behind all of the cruelty he had witness and endured while he was growing up.  When it came to it, one against the other, Potter was the one who **had** to win.  It was Potter who represented freedom and Voldemort...  well... if he won, perhaps Draco could convince Alastor into a suicide pact, as death was preferable to any treatment they would endure if the Dark Lord was victorious!  Potter had to win!  Although, looking at them standing there facing one another, Draco didn't hold out much hope!  Watching in horror, he squeezed Alastor's hand tightly, trying to fill his mind with the very best memories of their short time together. 

Time seemed to stand still.  From where they stood Draco couldn't hear the exact words Potter and the Dark Lord were saying to each other.  The moment they raised their wands to battle, Draco flung himself into Alastor's arms and held him tightly.  If he was going to die, this was how he was going to go. 

There was eerie silence.  Alastor gasped, and tugged Draco's shoulder, encouraging him to look back at the scene.  Alastor himself could not quite believe it, he needed Draco to see it too, to confirm it was real. 

Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord. 

Frantically, Alastor hugged Draco tightly to him as if it was only now, now that the Dark Lord was vanquished, that he could actually acknowledge the reality of just how much danger they had been in.


	18. Picking Up The Pieces

 

Draco's heart was still racing.  If ever he had been in any doubt, he now knew he was not cut out for battle and conflict.  His adrenalin was still coursing through his body and he couldn't quite imagine ever feeling calm or normal again.  He began to realise why Alastor never relaxed! 

They walked side by side, close but not holding hands or linking arms, purely because there was a lot of debris and rubble, the floor was uneven and they needed both hands and arms free from time to time in order to balance.  Alastor was relieved that the dead bodies from the first round of fighting had been moved to a place of rest and safety.  He was glad that Draco didn't have to see the extent of the human losses, that he didn't have to step over many bodies of his murdered school friends.  Alastor was not sure how well Draco would have coped with that.  That said, there were some deceased still lying on the battle ground, and there were many injured.  Many, many, who were injured. 

Draco and Alastor themselves were amongst the wounded, although they were walking, which put them in a far better state than many.  Draco's blond hair was matted with blood, which ran down his face on one side.  He had a large cut on his right forearm and his wrist was painful.  He suspected it was fractured at the very least, but he had tied a scarf around it and was too distracted by the sights around him to pay it much attention.  Alastor was simply in need of an intensive healing spell or course of potions after the damage Rosier had done to him with the Cruciatus curse, he had sustained very few physical injuries save a few cuts and bruises. 

Draco and Alastor made their way to the remains of the great hall where people were assembling.  Fear fluttered within both of them as they wondered just who had survived and who had not...?

Draco was too shocked even to gasp for breath when he saw the state of the great hall.  The window at the far end was shattered and part of the wall was destroyed too.  Several of the tables were broken and the pieces had been moved aside to clear space for makeshift stretchers and beds for the injured.  Adults and children alike were laid out, some crying in pain and fright, some barely conscious, while a team of healers did their best to attend to everyone as quickly as possible. 

Despite the horror, there was a buzz about the place, an odd sense of camaraderie.  This was the winning side.  Whatever atrocities had happened here today, the ultimate evil had been vanquished.  Those who had died had not died in vain and those who lived had a free world to live in.  Those whose injuries were slight were comforting the ones who awaited care, and outside in the courtyard, you could hear the last of the death eaters being rounded up by ministry officials and taken away to await trial.  Alastor twitched.  He should be out there doing his job...  However, he was in need of medical attention and they had not been in the hall more than a minute when they were spotted by one of the ministry healers who recognised Alastor immediately. 

'Auror Moody!'  The woman called at once and hurried over to him. 

The ministry healers were under instructions to heal Aurors as quickly as possible as all Auror's had a good standard of healer training themselves and could then administer emergency care to civilians. 

'Healer Carraway.'  He greeted her.  'Busy, are you?' 

She rolled her eyes, but smiled at Alastor's gruff humour.  She was used to his ways. 

'How bad are you hurt?'  She asked him directly. 

'Cruciatus curse.'  Alastor replied twitchily.  'It was...  it was a close one, Amber, I'll be honest with you.  I thought it was...  Well...  you know.' 

Amber Carraway looked horrified at the very thought!  She had been healing Auror Moody since her early days as a trainee healer and she couldn't bear the thought of him dying, especially not under the cruciatus curse!  The world just wouldn't be the same without him.  She considered him to be a friend, and he was her seven year old son's greatest idol in the world.  So relieved to see him walking and talking after his ordeal, she broke with the healers code for formality and pulled him into a hug. 

'Thank Merlin you're alright!'  She gushed.  'I don't know what I'd tell Fergus if you weren't!' 

Alastor laughed a little awkwardly.  He had never been comfortable with the idea of being someone's idol. 

Healer Carraway pulled a bottle of a pinkish white potion from her apron. 

'Two drops.'  She instructed. 

'Only two?'  Alastor queried. 

'It's medical grade.  Stronger than they let Aurors carry!'  She winked. 

She hadn't been lying.  Two tiny drops of the potion on Alastor's tongue and he felt a warming, healing light surge though him.  It was like being washed in pure love.  It was as if he had never known any reason for sadness in his whole life...  Alastor could understand why the potion was as controlled as it was.  It could have been incredibly addictive. 

The intenseness wore off quite quickly, but even after the moments of 'high' had passed, he felt physically better than he could remember for a long time.  He sighed a deep sigh of relief. 

'Good stuff, eh?'  Amber grinned. 

'I can see why they don't hand it out, put it that way!'  Alastor replied. 

'What about your friend...?  Healer Carraway said turning to Draco, who probably looked worse than he was because of the blood on his face and the fact it showed up so dramatically against his hair and pale skin.

'Amber, this is Draco Malfoy.  He saved me from the curse that nearly killed me.'  Alastor said.  'Draco, this is Healer Amber Caraway, a healer who has patched me up on the odd occasion.'

'Just a few occasions!'  Amber laughed.  'Pleased to meet you, Draco.  Now, let me take a look at you...' 

'Pleased to meet you too...'  Draco replied nervously.  This was the first of Alastor's friends he was being introduced too, and it was not at all how he had imagined it.  He had hoped for a relaxed, smart-casual cocktail party environment, not a field hospital! 

'You have a nasty head injury...'  Amber observed, 'but the bleeding has mostly stopped now.'  She pointed her wand and performed a rudimentary cleaning charm to remove the worst of the blood.  'A regular healing potion will fix that, but I would recommend you wash the wound directly before you take it, it's just easier.' 

Draco nodded. 

'Your wrist is broken.'  Healer Carraway continued.  'Well, multiple fractures...'  She looked closely.

Alastor looked too, peering with his magical eye...

'Merlin's balls!'  He exclaimed coarsely.  'That is a mess, isn't it?'  He looked at Draco with great concern. 

'I can hardly feel it now.'  Draco said nervously.  'It's just kind of numb.' 

'I'll fix it for you now.'  Amber said decidedly.  'I would have said Alastor could do it, but the fractures are too complicated for someone who isn't a specialist.  Give me your hand Draco...'  She prompted. 

Nervously Draco did as he was told and to his pleasant surprise, the procedure didn't hurt at all.  With some highly skilled wand work it took Amber less than 3 minutes to heal all of the damaged bones and Draco found that the feeling started to return. 

'Thank you, thank you!'  Draco enthused in an awestruck whisper. 

'A pleasure.'  Amber smiled.  'Good thing I saw it when I did, otherwise you could have lost your hand.' 

'We would have been a right couple then!'  Alastor laughed.  'Me with one leg and one eye, you with one hand missing!   Between us we would have almost been a whole person!' 

Draco half laughed, half sobbed with relief and exhaustion. 

Only Amber looked slightly confused. 

'Couple...?'  She repeated before she could stop herself. 

'Oh...  Yes.'  Alastor stammered, realising what he had said.  'Draco and I...  Yes.'  He confirmed. 

Amber raised her eyebrows in shock, but then she smiled, looking almost impressed. 

'Good for you.'  She concluded.  'I must get back to work now Alastor.  Please, go and heal people if you can, that's the directive.  Injured Aurors to be healed first, then to help by healing others.'  She nodded.  'Nice to meet you Draco.' 

'You too.'  Draco replied.  'And thanks for fixing me.' 

'Any time!'  Amber called as she returned to her duties. 

Alastor was about to take a moment to check in with Draco...  Was he alright?  Did he mind being introduced like that?  Was he in any pain...?  But suddenly a voice hailed him. 

'Alastor!  Thank the gods you're here!' 

A red haired man who Draco vaguely recognised came running towards them and pulled Alastor into a friendly embrace. 

'Arthur!'  Alastor exclaimed, equally relieved. 

'It's such a relief to see you!'  The man cried.  'So many people have  died.'  The man gasped, tears forming in his eyes.  'Our son...  we...  we lost our son...  Fred.' 

Alastor gasped in shock and he pulled his friend close, hugging him tightly.  It was dreadful, truly dreadful when civilians were killed.  Especially young ones, especially children.  The man sobbed for a few moments onto Alastor's shoulder. 

'I'm so sorry Arthur.'  Alastor offered in his gentlest voice. 

Arthur shook his head and pulled back from the hug, pulling himself together. 

'We're not the only family that's for sure.'  He said bravely, strengthened by having seen his good friend alive and strong. 

Alastor was about to reply when a short-ish woman also with red hair came running over, tears streaming down her face. 

'Arthur!'  She cried.  'Arthur, George is injured!  He just keeps bleeding!'  She turned to Alastor.  'Alastor, please help us!'  She begged.  'They've cursed him with a spell and no one knows what it is!  They can't stop the bleeding.  It just keeps getting worse and worse!  He'll die!  He's going to die!  I can't lose both of them!  Not on the same day!  Please gods!' 

Draco's eyes had widened the moment he had heard her say her son wouldn't stop bleeding.  Before Alastor could respond to her, Draco spoke up. 

'Where is he?'  He asked at once.  'I think I might know the spell.' 

Molly was too frantic and too distraught to think to ask just who exactly this person was.  All that mattered was that he thought he might know the spell and maybe, just maybe he could save her son. 

'Over here!'  She cried and they ran over to the far side of the hall where a healer was desperately trying to stem the blood flow from a wound across a boys torso. 

Draco dropped to his knees beside the healer instantly. 

'When you try to knit the flesh, what happens?'  Draco asked directly in a confident voice. 

The healer looked at him, but inspired by his confidence, he didn't question who he was. 

'It begins to knit...'  the man began,  'But then it reopens from within.  It's as if it gets worse with each attempt I make.' 

Molly sobbed loudly. 

Draco nodded and rolled up his sleeves. 

'Alastor,  I need your wand.'  Draco said calmly.  'This takes two wands to fix and I think I could maybe handle yours.' 

Alastor didn't question this and handed Draco his wand instantly.  Were Molly and Arthur in less distress, they would have been puzzled and intrigued by this alone, but they were too concerned for George. 

'This will hurt.'  Draco said to him, with a tiny hint of an apology in his straightforward tone. 

Without wasting another second, he took a wand in each hand and held them over Georges wound.  With Alastor's wand he whispered a spell as he moved the wand tip over the wound. 

To the horror of the onlookers, the wound opened up further as he did this, a rift in the flesh widening and Molly flinched with horror.  However, in a split second, the wound wide open, and George screaming in pain, Draco began to work with his own wand.  He pointed the tip into the cavity in George's chest and whispered an incantation.  The onlookers watched in awe as a dark green spell seemed to be pulled out of the wound and sucked into the tip of Draco's wand where it turned white before it disappeared to nothing. 

This complete, Draco handed Alastor's wand back to him and continued with his own, fusing the torn flesh back together one layer at a time. 

'It's a really horrible spell...'  Draco could talk now as he worked, the most complicated part over with.  'It's a sort of parasitic curse which goes inside the wound and stays there.  The more you try to heal it, the more it burrows deeper and reopens the wound...  You have to get the remnants out before you can heal it...  But you have to be quick, hence the two wands...  because you have to go deep into the wound to get the curse out...'  Draco explained to the baffled healer and the boys sobbing parents who were overjoyed to see their sons wounds healing. 

Draco sat back onto his heels. 

'There.'  He concluded.  'Once you get the curse out, you can just heal in the usual way.'  he told the healer, who was looking at him with admiration.  'I...  I saw them developing that spell...'  Draco said coldly, as he got to his feet.  'I saw them... practice it...'  His face went white as a sheet and for a second he flinched in pain at the mere memory, the others looking on with empathy for him.  'However...  Draco straightened himself up.  'All that meant was I could develop a spell to fix it.'  He said boldly. 

There was an odd emotionally charged pause when it was hard to discern who wanted to hug him the most.  Molly was the first off the mark. 

She flung her arms around Draco and squeezed him hard. 

'Oh thank you!  Thank you!'  She sobbed!  'You saved my sons life!  Thank you!' 

Then she dropped down beside George and hugged him.  He groaned, still feeling rather delicate. 

The healer stepped forward. 

'Senior Healer Hisao Hayashi.'  He introduced himself.  'Tell me, did you write that healing spell yourself?' 

Draco nodded. 

'I'll write it down for you.'  He offered.  'It's really just the first bit that's mine.  The rest is just standard.  I wrote the wound opening bit and the spell to draw out and destroy the curse.  The hardest bit is having to be quick...  And having two wands you can handle.'  Draco added. 

'And you used mine...'  Alastor interjected with a fondness in his eyes that none of his friends had ever seen before. 

'It takes a firm hand!'  Draco reflected.  'I wouldn't want to make a habit of it.' 

'I have patients to attend...'  Hisao told them, he turned to Draco...  'I must talk to you later about that spell...'  He said passionately.  'It's a very important piece of work and it must be recorded, and yourself properly credited of course.  Are you considering a career as a healer...'  He began but on hearing a cry from across the room he had to leave, with a promise to return and talk further with Draco.

Molly got to her feet and hugged Draco again, which took him a little by surprise. 

'Oh thank you!'  She exclaimed as her husband echoed her sentiments, patting Draco warmly on the shoulder. 

When Molly stepped back, Alastor took his chance.  He stepped forward to Draco and rested an affectionate hand on his shoulder. 

'Told you you'd make an excellent healer.'  he said proudly. 

'I'll bare it in mind.'  Draco smiled, although he had no intention of doing anything of the sort. 

There was a pause.  The moment for introductions had arrived. 

'Errr...  I suppose I should introduce you...'  Alastor began. 

Molly and Arthur nodded, keen to know the name of the young man who had saved the life of their son. 

Alastor turned to Draco first. 

'Draco, these are my friends, Molly and Arthur Weasley...' 

The moment he had seen George, Draco had known exactly who they were.  He smiled as warmly as he could, trying not to judge them by his dislike of Ron.  He shook their hands. 

'Delighted to meet you.'  He said smoothly. 

'Molly, Arthur...  This is Draco Malfoy.'  Alastor paused for a second.  'Draco is...  He's my...  He's my boyfriend.'  He concluded, feeling a little awkward before deciding there was no point mincing his words and saying it as plainly as he could. 

Mr and Mrs Weasley had looked shocked enough when they heard his name, but their shock increased exponentially at the second piece of information. 

'Really?'  Arthur asked before he could stop himself.  'Alastor, I had no idea you were involved with anyone.'  He added, wanting to make his shock sound less judgemental. 

'Well I am.'  Alastor confirmed, putting his arm around the smiling Draco.  'In fact, you may as well be the first to know, Draco and I are going to be married.' 

Molly and Arthur glanced at each other, their shock reaching its peak.  Molly recovered first. 

'Congratulations, Alastor dear!'  She exclaimed and hugged him.  'And you too, Draco.'  She added, hugging him too.  'You'll forgive our surprise only, we had no idea Alastor was even in a relationship!  But what a wonderful and gifted young man you're marrying, Alastor!'  She beamed with delight. 

Draco blushed a little.  He loved compliments and rarely received them quite so freely from people.  He could get used to this! 

'Congratulations.'  Arthur said agreeing with his wife on the point, although Alastor got the feeling that he was going to be asked some questions about just how this situation had come about the next time he and Arthur were alone! 

With a charming smile Draco thanked them both politely but before there could be another awkward pause, a group of injured people were hurried in to the hall causing much commotion. 

'Healers!  Aurors!'  A voice called.  'We need help over here!' 

Alert at once, Draco grabbed Alastor's arm. 

'Come on.  We can do this.'  He said.  'It was lovely to meet you both.'  He added to Molly and Arthur as he dragged Alastor over to the group of injured survivors.  Healer Hayashi was attending them and although Draco held no qualifications, he welcomed him into the team to help. 

Arthur and Molly were somewhat speechless as they watched them. 

'Did I just hear that correctly...'  Georges voice croaked from the floor behind them. 

They turned to him at once.

'I mean...'  He continued,  'Am I far more spell-damaged than I realised or did Mad-Eye Moody **seriously** just tell you he's going to marry Draco Malfoy?' 

'You're not spell damaged...'  A familiar voice spoke up. 

**'HARRY!'**   Molly cried and flung her arms around him. 

Harry accepted the hug, but actually he had come over to them to have a few inconspicuous, normal moments under the radar!  He disentangled himself from her embrace and crouched down beside George. 

'Well, you might be spell damaged, I guess, but not because of that.  They were together at the Shrieking Shack.  We were there too, and Kingsley... and Lupin...'  Harry paused. 

Ron had followed him over and had hugged both of his parents.  Now he crouched beside his brother. 

'It's true.'  He consolidated Harry's story.  'Mad-Eye's been mattress-dancing with Malfoy!' 

'Ron!'  Mrs Weasley exclaimed crossly.  'What an expression to use!' 

'OK, maybe they've been getting to know each other politely over a cup of tea!'  Ron corrected, a touch sarcastically.  'We wouldn't know...  seeing as Mad-Eye cast a silencing charm around their bedroom at night!' 

'Please, Ron!'  George squirmed.  'I just nearly died.  I think the thought of that might finish me off!' 

'And it was Alastor's young friend who saved your life!'  Molly reminded him sternly.  'Let's have a little more respect.' 

' **Young** friend is right!'  Ron exclaimed.  'You know he's my age, right?' 

Molly and Arthur glanced at each other a little uncomfortably for a second. 

'I admit, that's quite an age gap...'  Arthur said.  'However, I dare say that boy probably needs a decent father figure in his life...' 

There was a pause and Mr and Mrs Weasley looked at each other with all kinds of concerns going through their minds.  Concerns for Draco, concerns for their friend... 

'I will talk to Alastor though.'  Arthur said decidedly.  'When I get the chance,  Make sure he's sure he knows what he's doing...' 

'I don't think age is really such a big deal.'  Harry spoke up calmly.  'I mean, age is just a number isn't it?  Everyone is different, no matter what their age.  It's not the age that matters, it's the person.' 

'Well that just makes it all the weirder!'  George laughed.  'I mean, Malfoy's always been a total git, hasn't he?...  Apart from just then when he saved my life!'  He added quickly, seeing the angry look on his mother's face. 

Harry would quite happily have stayed there a little while longer musing over what  on earth could have possessed Mad-Eye to make him want to marry Draco Malfoy.  Gossiping about something like that, well...  it was a welcome respite for Harry and it gave him a chance to feel almost normal.  Unfortunately he didn't have the chance for long as he was ushered away by some ministry officials to begin the debrief process. 

Draco and Alastor worked side by side healing wounds for the injured.  It was mostly basic spells that were required although there were two more instances of the parasitic curse which Draco was called upon to heal.  Healer Hayashi gathered a team of his colleagues around to witness as Draco performed the magic, and Draco talked through the process for them.  Running on pure adrenalin, Alastor and Draco worked tirelessly for over two hours before Cornelius Fudge called Alastor over to the far end of the hall. 

Fudge had not asked for Draco was well, but Draco went too.  Draco decided anything the Minister had to say to Alastor, he could say in front of Alastor's fiancée too!

Fudge decided not to question or challenge Draco's presence.  He should speak to his Auror's alone, he knew that, however, they wouldn't be **his** Auror's for very much longer.  Fudge knew it was time to step down, so he decided it didn't really matter if he spoke to Alastor alone or not on this occasion. 

'Healer Carraway reported your injuries to me.'  He said. 

Alastor nodded. 

'All fixed up now.'  He confirmed. 

'Fixed maybe, but you need to rest and relax.'  Fudge said firmly.  I'm relieving all of the advanced guard who were in frontline combat and sending you all home to rest.  The auxiliary teams can pick up from here.  There'll be plenty to do over the coming weeks and the ministry will need it's Aurors well and rested, to round up any of the last of the death eaters.' 

Alastor nodded.  He didn't like being sent away from a scene where he may be needed but the crisis was over and he had to admit, a rest would be most welcome! 

'You can go home.  Both of you.'  Fudge told them. 

'I don't know if you have considered it Minister...'  Draco began, 'But I imagine that some of the death eaters may use my parents home as a place of hiding.  They also have a number of magical artefacts there they may wish to claim before they try to run.  I would suggest you send Ministry officers to search the place.' 

'That had occurred to me, Mr Malfoy, yes.'  Fudge confirmed.  'I was going to advise you not to return there for your own safety, and in any case, we have the place under guard and no one will be allowed in or out until it's been searched thoroughly.  Only at that point will you be granted permission to return to your home.' 

Draco nodded bravely.  He didn't want to go there, but at the same time he wasn't sure where else he could go.  The manor was his home after all, and for all the bad memories it housed, it was his.  With his parents in Azkaban it was **truly** his, and he had already given plenty of thought as to the best ways to exploit his control over the Malfoy estates and of course, his parents bank accounts! 

Fudge glanced at Alastor's hand, which rested on Draco's shoulder, stroking him supportively and tenderly, and he smiled. 

'Perhaps under the circumstances, Alastor, it would not be inappropriate for you to take Mr Malfoy to your quarters and the two of you can stay there until the manor is fully checked?' 

'Certainly Minister.'  Alastor replied. 

Fudge nodded. 

'Use the floo network.'  He instructed.  'Apparition barriers are down, but I don't want injured and tired people apparating.  We have enough on our plates without accidental Splinching.  Now, go!  Rest!' 


	19. A Personal Debrief

 

It had been a very long time since Alastor had bought a guest back to his rooms at the Auror headquarters.  It was not common practice to entertain guests on the Ministry premises, but nor was it common practice for an Auror to live on site quite as much as Alastor did.  Auror dorms, and for the higher ranks, individual rooms, were intended as short term living quarters when working on complex missions.  However, Alastor had found that throughout his career, as he was **always** working on complex missions, it was just easier to stay there on a near permanent basis.  It had rarely been an issue as in recent years, he had rarely been in a position where he wanted to bring someone back to his rooms.  Now, as he uttered the spell to unlock the door, he felt a flutter of concern...  Just what state had he left the place in?  Probably not the state he would have left it in if he had  anticipated when he set out on the mission that when he returned to this room it would be with an 18 year old fiancée in tow! 

He swung the door open and switched on the light.  The second they stepped inside Draco flung himself into Alastor's arms, holding him tightly, overwhelmed with emotion, face buried against his coat. 

Alastor reminded himself of the training and guidance they had about comforting civilians who have been involved in conflict.  He reminded himself that Draco, young and inexperienced in battle, would be very shaken by what he had seen and done today.  Alastor held him tightly and firmly stroked his back, resolved to hold him for as long as he needed although he cast a watchful glance around the room as he did so, making sure there was nothing too embarrassing on display!

Alastor had to admit he was impressed with Draco's resilience, as after only a minute or so Draco loosened his grip letting Alastor know he was alright and he could let go of him now.  It was very much as it had been at the shrieking shack when Draco had been desperate to be alone, desperate to be held and reassured he was safe, but recovered himself quickly once he felt secure. 

'You OK?'  Alastor whispered in his gruff yet affectionate voice. 

Draco nodded. 

'Let me put the kettle on and make you some tea.'  Alastor said stepping back and quickly kicking a pair of greying underpants out of sight. 

'Thanks.'  Draco muttered.  He still sounded a little shell shocked.

Alastor made his way to this sink and filled his old battered kettle with water.  He glanced back at Draco who was just beginning to look about at the room with curiosity. 

'You'll have to excuse the mess.'  Alastor said as he put the kettle on to boil.  'I wasn't expecting to have a visitor.  It's been a while since I invited anyone back here.'  He justified. 

However, Draco wasn't doing his brat expression as he looked around, it was more a genuine interest, a desire to observe and notice everything that was in the space, everything that was Alastor's.  It all interested him very much. 

'So...  This is where you live...?'  Draco mused, peering at a shelf of books and a couple of old framed photos. 

'Mostly, yes.'  Alastor replied.  'Have a seat.'  He offered, moving a pile of clothes from the bed so that Draco could sit down. 

Draco was grateful for the chance to sit and relax and he made himself comfortable, taking off his shoes and pulling his feet up onto the bed. 

'I live here most of the time.'  Alastor elaborated, 'But I do have a house as well.  It was my parents house, in Camden.  Mixed area, you know.  Wizard and Muggle.  Nice though.  I've not spent much time there since my parents died.  It's too big for just me.' 

Draco was listening attentively to every word and watching Alastor as he moved about the room.  Alastor picked up a large leather bound book and opened it.  He took out a photograph and handed it to Draco. 

'Here.'  He said. 

Draco looked at the image and studied it for a moment.  It was a photo of a nice looking town house, detached, with a small front garden filled with trees.  It had bay windows and an elegant porch.  It looked Georgian, and was stylish but also homely.  It was a more prestigious place than Draco had imagined, but it also looked as though it was probably the messiest kept house on the street and probably needed tome TLC. 

'It looks nice.'  Draco said sincerely, sensing Alastor wanted to know what he thought. 

'It is nice.'  Alastor agreed.  'My parents loved it.  I really should look after it better, spend more time there.'  He mused. 

'So is this where we're going to live when we're married?'  Draco asked. 

There was a meaningful pause as the reality of their situation began to dawn on both of them. 

Alastor sat down beside Draco and took his hands. 

'I won't hold you to that you know, if you decide it's not what you want.'  Alastor began. 

'You told your friends.'  Draco said. 

'Yes.'  Alastor admitted.  'But I don't want you to feel pressured if you decided in the cold light of day that is isn't what you want.' 

'That's kind of you.'  Draco recognised graciously.  'But it **is** what I want, you know.'  He smiled and squeezed Alastor's hands.  'I want to marry you.  And live in the little house, and make it a proper home again.'  Draco's eyes sparkled. 

'You might find it needs a little work.'  Alastor admitted.  'It's not been touched for years in terms of decor...' 

'Well I'm very creative, and I'd love a project.'  Draco grinned. 

'You don't want to live at the manor?'  Alastor asked.  'It's only right to tell you Draco, I have some money put away, but I'm not sure I can...  what's the phrase...?  Keep you in the fashion to which you have become accustomed.'  Alastor confessed. 

Draco laughed his pretty, musical laugh. 

'You mean I won't be rich, materialistic and miserable, spending half my time hiding and cowering in fear?  Well good!  That's not really the future I had in mind to be honest!' 

Alastor kissed him on the forehead. 

'I'd certainly never want to see you miserable or afraid.'  He said gently.  'But I'm not rich, Draco.  It's only fair that I tell you.  I'm not rich.' 

'Well I am.'  Draco grinned confidently.  'I've been taking money from my parents accounts every day, as much as I've been legally allowed to, and putting it into a secret account of my own.  I've got a bit of money put away too!'  He beamed. 

Alastor laughed. 

'I guess we could be alright between the two of us then!' 

Draco cuddled up to him. 

'I guess we might be.'  He smiled. 

The kettle began to boil and Alastor got to his feet and began searching for the cleanest, least chipped mug to offer Draco.  He was oddly reminded of his days as a trainee Auror, sneaking dates back into the dorms and trying to impress them.  Tonight he was similarly nervous and excited, even though the circumstances were rather different.  Keen to make a good impression, he reached down to the bottom shelf of a tall bookcase and retrieved a vinyl record which he placed on an ancient record player which sprung to life at his touch.  Alastor had never had the time to cultivate an extensive music collection, in fact the majority of the records he owned had belonged to his parents.  The record began to play and suddenly the room was filled with the warm, comforting sound of crackling vinyl and 1940s swing love songs. 

Draco smiled, touched that Alastor was trying to create some atmosphere and make a good impression on him. 

Alastor handed Draco a mug of tea, once he had checked that the long life milk had lived up to its name.  He sat back down beside Draco, glad to be resting at last. 

They sat in silence taking long comforting sips of tea until Alastor spoke. 

'We've known each other a week.'  He observed. 

Draco looked shocked for a moment and thought about it. 

'10 days.'  He corrected with a playful expression. 

'It's not very long.'  Alastor said.  'People might think this is all a little bit crazy.' 

'So crazy it just might work.'  Draco replied.

Alastor smiled, but he looked a little nervous.  Draco noticed. 

'Look, I get it.'  Draco said calmly.  'You are a very cautious person aren't you?' 

Alastor nodded. 

'So am I, usually.'  Draco admitted.  'I'm thoughtful, considered...  some might even say calculating.  I'm not known for rash, impulsive decisions, but...  something...  Something about this feels **so** right, Alastor, and I think you feel it too, don't you?' 

Alastor nodded again. 

'That's what's making me nervous, I suppose.'  Alastor confessed.  'It's not that I think this might be wrong, but that I feel so strongly that it's right.  It's not logical and it doesn't make sense, but it's right.' 

Draco smiled and touched his hand gently. 

'We don't have to rush things, you know.'  He offered. 

'We agreed we would date.'  Alastor remembered. 

Draco nodded remembering. 

'I want to date you.'  Alastor confirmed.  'I want to marry you too, but I want to date you, to court you...  Properly.  I'm traditional that way, on the quiet.  I like to do things properly.' 

Draco beamed with delight. 

'A long engagement then?'  He suggested.  'That will be for the best really.  All the best wedding venues will be booked up ages in advance anyway.' 

Alastor laughed as for the first time he pictured the reality of marrying Draco Malfoy, the sort of wedding Draco might want; the planning, the expense!  He could only hope Draco really did have a stack of cash hidden away!  But it was lovely to think that Draco wanted to have a proper wedding with him.  It confirmed to him that it wasn't simply a rushed decision.  Yes, they had got engaged quickly, but there would still be time for all of the proper courtship and wedding traditions to be observed...  Well, most of them anyway. 

'A long engagement.'  He agreed.  'And we'll date.  Even if we are living together.' 

Draco laughed. 

'Yes, ok.  Long engagement.  Lots of dates.  Make a home together.  Marry next May.  That's 16 months away.' 

'Deal.'  Alastor agreed, extending his hand to Draco and shaking his hand firmly as if they had just agreed a business transaction. 

Draco laughed and snuggled up to Alastor who held him tight.

They drank their tea without talking any more, listening to the crackling, crooning ballads of the record, feeling dazed, tried, confused but somehow very, very lucky and very, very happy.  Once the tea was finished Alastor took both the mugs to the sink and left them there to be washed in the morning, along with the mouldering bowl of discarded cereal he had left there and now sincerely hoped that Draco wouldn't notice.

He returned to the bed and sat down heavily.  His leg was hurting a great deal and he groaned and rubbed at the strap which attached it. 

'Take it off.'  A calm but rather authoritarian little voice spoke up. 

Alastor turned to Draco. 

'Take it off.'  Draco repeated gently.  'I know you don't like to when you think you might have to fight, but you're safe here, aren't you?  And I'm here.  It's all ok.'  He said softly, resting his hand on Alastor's back. 

'It wouldn't...  bother you?'  Alastor asked nervously, his insecurities surfacing again, just as they had at the forth hut. 

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes playfully. 

'No!  Of course not.'  He assured.  'You worry too much, Alastor.' 

'I'm an Auror.  It's my job to worry.'  Alastor replied staunchly. 

'But not about this.'  Draco told him.  'It's your job to worry about keeping people safe and stopping dark wizards, but it's not your job to worry about weather I'll still fancy you if I see you with your leg off!  And I will, by the way...  still fancy you.'  Draco winked.  'You really don't need to worry.' 

'Old habits die hard I guess.'  Alastor smiled, flattered by Draco's words.  'I'm a natural born worrier, and I suppose I'm still a bit baffled about you fancying me at all, too.'  He admitted. 

'Alastor, you're a soldier.  You're the greatest Auror who ever lived.  You're a hero **and** you've got the scars to prove it!  If that's not hot, well, then I don't know what is!'  Draco exclaimed passionately. 

Alastor laughed, wishing he saw himself the way Draco apparently saw him. 

'Now come on...'  Draco encouraged.  'Take it off.  Relax Alastor.  I'm here and...'  He paused for a second, summoned his courage and then spoke.  'and...  I love you.'  He concluded. 

Without even pausing for a second, Alastor responded. 

'I love you too.'  He said with the deepest sincerity.  'And I'm shocked and appalled with myself for not having told you sooner.  For Merlin's sake, I announced our engagement before I had told you I love you!'  He realised. 

Draco simply laughed. 

'We're not good at this, are we?'  he said through his giggles. 

'I'm not.'  Alastor confessed.  'It's a long time since I was close with someone, I was always too busy and...  too scared.'  he admitted. 

'Scared?'  Draco echoed. 

'Of being rejected.  Of not being good enough for someone to love me.  Of letting someone down by always putting my work first.  Of making the person I love vulnerable to vengeance attacks against me...' 

Draco smiled kindly and tried to understand Alastor's paranoia as best he could. 

'But I really do love you.'  Alastor reaffirmed.  'I love you and there's not a lot I can do about it, I don't think, besides marry you.' 

Draco laughed again. 

'Besides marry me and live happily ever after.'  He corrected. 

Now Alastor laughed. 

'It that what we agreed?'  He asked.  'I thought we agreed we would drive each other crazy in less than a week?' 

'It's been 10 days now...'  Draco grinned.  'And we're not crazy yet...  or perhaps we are, who knows?  But it's a good kind of crazy.' 

'Yes.  Yes it is.'  Alastor agreed. 

Without another word, Draco moved round beside him and pulled up his trouser leg.  His hands light, checking with gentle touches and caring glances, he slowly unfastened the brace which attached Alastor's prosthetic leg. 

Alastor stayed as still as a statue as Draco carried out the task.  He gripped the bed covers at each side of him wondering if this was in fact the most intimate thing he had ever let anyone do, if this was the most vulnerable he had ever allowed himself to be with another person?

'There...'  Said Draco as he carefully lifted the metal leg away with his gentle, healers hands.  'That's better, isn't it?'  He smiled. 

Alastor sighed deeply, overwhelmed with both physical relief and intense emotions.  He simply nodded and began to rub at the stump where the brace had held the limb. 

Draco leant over and kissed him softly on the lips. 

'Can we go to bed...?'  He whispered softly. 

Alastor told Draco where he could find some clean nightshirts for the pair of them, and although Draco was somewhat swamped by the garment, he was glad of something clean and delighted to be wearing something of Alastor's.  He smiled a sleepy and contented smile as he climbed into the bed beside Alastor and they lay down together, Draco resting his head on Alastor's chest. 

The bed was not much wider than a single bed and they had to lay practically on top of one another in order to both fit, but neither of them minded too much.  However, intimate though it may be, they were both so tired that they had little on their minds besides cuddling and falling asleep. 

'I really do love you, Alastor Moody.'  Draco whispered, as Alastor put out the light. 

'I love you, Draco Malfoy.'  Alastor replied, amused by hearing the words spoken out loud.  'I fell for you almost right away, you know.'  He admitted bashfully. 

'Did you?'  Draco laughed.  'When?' 

Alastor thought back. 

'Well I certainly knew that first night when you snapped at me about the way I interpreted Death In Venice.'  Alastor mused.  'When you set the table up for dinner and drank too much wine...  You were unbearably cute.' 

'I didn't drink too much wine.'  Draco pouted. 

'You did.  And then you snored all night as a result.  It was very adorable.  However, the next day you were beastly again.'  Alastor remembered.  'But by then, I think, secretly I was developing a bit of a 'thing' about you.  You could get a reaction from me like no one else could.' 

Draco laughed. 

'You wanted to kill me, you mean?' 

'At times...'  Alastor laughed.  'But mostly I wanted to kiss you... and fuck you...  and make you mine.' 

Draco blushed and smiled.    

'I think I started to feel it the moment you showed me how to slice that bread.'  Draco confessed.  'But the moment I knew for sure was when I tried to massage you and you threw me on the floor and jumped on top of me.'  He laughed.  'Perhaps I'm a bit kinky like that!'

Alastor chuckled and felt himself blushing as he remembered his over reaction when Draco had touched him. 

'We really are rather unlikely as a couple, aren't we?'  Alastor laughed.  'People are going to be so surprised.  They'll think I've lost the plot completely.' 

'Well I don't think they call you **Mad** -Eye Moody for nothing!'  Draco replied.

'That's because of my eye, you little horror!'  Alastor retorted making Draco smirk. 

'You reckon...?'  He teased sarcastically. 

'I don't know what they'll think **you're** doing this for!'  Alastor mused. 

'They'll think I'm after your money.'  Draco answered confidently.  'They'll think you've told me you have a stack of service pay and a huge wad of pension cash hidden away, and I'm marrying you so I can get my hands on that.'  Draco paused for a moment.  'Of course if they confront me about it I'll have to tell them the real reason I'm with you.' 

'Oh...  and what's that?'  Alastor asked. 

'I'll tell them I'm with you because you fuck like a stallion.'  Draco said calmly.

'Oh Gods!  Please don't say that to anyone!'  Alastor half laughed, half groaned.  'At least not anyone like Dawlish or Shacklebolt!  I'd never hear the end of it!' 

Draco giggled and he snuggled down to go to sleep.  He turned over and wrapped the blanket around himself tightly. 

'Hey!'  Alastor gasped as the blanket was pulled from him and he felt the cold air against his skin.

He pulled the blanket back. 

'Don't think you're gonna steal the bedcovers every night.'  He warned.  'Come here...  Stay close to me and we can share it.  It's only for tonight.  Tomorrow we'll see about a double bed.' 

Draco didn't mind that they had to sleep so close to each other.  It was very comforting on this occasion, although in the long term, they would have to invest in a luxurious double bed.  For now, however, this was perfect, and kind of thrilling too, to be roughing it in a single bed in the Auror barracks with his brave solider! 

They both shut their eyes and were drifting off to sleep when suddenly Draco began to laugh. 

'What's so funny?'  Moody whispered gruffly. 

'I was just remembering the look of your friends faces when you told them we were getting married.'  Draco confessed, giggling. 

For a second, Alastor laughed too, but quieted himself quickly. 

'Go to sleep, Brat!'  He instructed affectionately. 

Draco reached up and kissed him on the cheek. 

'Good night, fiancée!'  Draco replied.                     


	20. Constant Vigilance

 

'Come on, Alastor!'  Draco yelled impatiently as he fastened his cloak and picked up his wand from the kitchen table. 

He paused, glanced around himself and smiled a satisfied smile.  This lovely little house was coming on in leaps and bounds now that he was overseeing the renovation and redecoration project.  He congratulated himself on the tasteful mix of contemporary stylish touches, the beautiful use of antique furniture and reclaimed materials which had blended together so nicely to make this spacious kitchen-diner into such a chic yet homely space.  Alastor always pretended not to be too interested in the decor, but Draco was never convinced.  The fact that the two of them spent so much time in this room spoke volumes about how much they both liked it.  Alastor would relax by the heat of the aga and read the paper, while Draco prepared dinner.  Draco smiled again, wondering how it had come to be that cooking Alastor's dinner was now his new favourite way to spend an evening. 

'Alastor!'  He shouted up the stairs again.  'Hurry up!  We'll be late!' 

Draco heard a grumbled reply from the next floor and heard Alastor stumping down the wooden staircase. 

'Honestly!  You say **I** take ages to get ready!'  Draco said as Alastor finally arrived in the kitchen in his 'best' clothes. 

'I'd have been ready a lot sooner if you hadn't been hogging the bathroom for over an hour.'  Alastor replied. 

'Well that won't be a problem after next week when we have the downstairs bathroom fitted, will it?'  Draco grinned. 

'Next week?'  Alastor echoed.  'I thought they couldn't do it for a month?' 

'I pulled a few strings...'  Draco said, handing Alastor his least scruffy coat. 

'You mean you offered them more money?'  Alastor asked. 

'Maybe a little.'  Draco confessed.  'But I had to!  Magical Homes magazine are coming to do a feature on us in two weeks.  The place needs to be ready.' 

'Hummmm....'  Alastor mumbled and Draco kissed him affectionately on the cheek. 

'Are you ready?'  He asked. 

'Yes.'  Alastor replied and they made their way outside to wait for the knight bus which would take them to Kingsley's. 

The knight bus had seemed like a good idea at the time.  As they were attending their own engagement party which Kingsley had been delighted to agree to host, they anticipated they would be drinking a certain amount of champagne, and apparating and alcohol don't mix!  However, the knight bus was bumpy and rough, and by the time they arrived, Draco was so concerned about his hair that he hurried straight to the bathroom to check he still looked perfect, leaving Alastor to enter the party room alone. 

A few guests were there before them, including Harry, Ron and Hermione and several of the Aurors, Alastor had a chance to get a drink and catch up with his friends.  He sat on a small sofa once he had greeted everyone. 

'Where is your little child-bride anyway Alastor?' Dawlish asked as he settled himself down into the chair beside his friend. 

Alastor gave him a fleeting sarcastic look for his use of the term 'child-bride' but answered him none the less. 

'He's tidying up his hair before he makes an appearance.'  Alastor told him.  'He was worried he was looking too windswept after the journey.' 

Dawlish laughed. 

'Gods!  He is high maintenance, isn't he?' 

Alastor nodded. 

'But I guess he's worth it...?'  Dawlish grinned. 

Flushing a little, Alastor nodded again.  He certainly was worth it.

The two men took a drink and were about to continue chatting when just then Draco, The Brat, the high maintenance child-bride, made his entrance. 

He appeared in the doorway, looking picture-perfect.  He had smoothed down his windswept hair so that it fell neatly and sleekly around his pale face.  He wore a short, charcoal grey tunic robe of a very simple and chic design over black jeans with shiny slip-on shoes.  He accessorised his casual-yet-glamorous look with a metallic sliver scarf around his neck.  He stood in the doorway for a second, letting everyone look at him, smiling at everybody, even Harry and Ron. 

'Draco!  The person we've all been waiting for!'  Kingsley exclaimed.  'Come and join us at last.' 

'Thank you, Minister.'  Draco smiled and he sashayed over to Kingsley, who hugged him and kissed him on both cheeks. 

'Let me pour you a drink...'  Kingsley offered.  'Champagne?  It's  Don Perignon 1990?' 

'Thank you.'  Draco replied coolly as he extended his left hand conspicuously. 

Kingsley did a double take as he handed Draco the glass and Draco headed over to Alastor. 

'Give us a top up, Kingsley...?  Dawlish prompted his friend, 

'I'd love too...'  Kingsley began, blinking dramatically.  'But I'm afraid can't see a thing!  I've just been blinded by the light reflecting off of the huge diamond on Mr Malfoy's finger!' 

Everyone turned to look. 

Draco had sat down next to Alastor on the sofa, curled up beside him with a smug smile on his face.  He made sure his left hand was clearly visible to everyone. 

Harry stared.  Draco was indeed sporting an engagement ring with an enormous diamond... _'practically the size of a house elf's head'_ as Harry would describe it later.  The advanced guard must be on good wages, Harry mused! 

'Bloody hell!'  Ron said, before he could stop himself. 

'That is certainly impressive!'  Remus admired from across the room. 

'Tastefully so.'  Draco assured them.  'We didn't want anything too brassy.'    

'That must have cost a pretty sum!'  Dawlish whistled in admiration.

'Well it seemed to be the best way to keep him quiet for a while.'  Alastor grumbled, but as he did so, Harry noticed him slip his hand possessively onto Draco's thigh and glance at him adoringly. 

Dawlish laughed and so did Kingsley, topping up his friends glass as requested.

'If everyone has a drink, might I suggest a toast...?'  Kingsley suggested.  'The first of many this evening, I expect.  But shall we all raise our glasses to the happy couple...?  To Alastor and Draco on their engagement!'  He called. 

'Alastor and Draco.'  The occupants of the room echoed.  There was enough enthusiasm from Dawlish, Savage, Remus and Kingsley that it easily drowned out the note of uncertainty from Harry and Ron.  Hermione and Ginny however managed to get into the swing of things and toasted warm voices. 

'Thank you, Minister.'  Draco smiled a coy, bashful although not entirely modest smile.  'And of course a toast to Alastor's new job as well!'  He beamed. 

'Ah, yes!'  Kingsley added.  'To Alastor's well deserved promotion...  'Head of Auror Training and Recruitment!'  Congratulations!' 

There was a cheer from the Aurors in the room.

'Didn't even know you were after a promotion, Sir!'  Savage said. 

'Well...'  Alastor said awkwardly...  'Things have changed I guess...'  He glanced at Draco.  'I can't stay on in active service forever, can I?  And it's not like I'll be stuck behind a desk.  I'll be training new recruits...  teaching, if you will.' 

'Good luck with that!'  Remus grinned and a couple of people laughed. 

Draco smiled and snuggled up to his fiancée.

                                    *                           *                      *                        *                            *

Draco had pulled a few strings to see to this promotion. 

A couple of weeks after the battle he had taken it upon himself to visit the newly appointed Minister for Magic to have a little talk about Alastor's future with the Aurors.  He had found Kingsley alone, settling in to his new office. 

'Good evening Minister...'  Draco had begun in a silky voice as he sidled into the office closing the door behind him.  He looked Kingsley up and down and smiled.  'I must say, you look very much at home...'  He stepped closer. 

'The decor needs updating...'  Kingsley observed.  'Fudge was a little...  well...  old fashioned!' 

Draco laughed a charming laugh. 

'I'm sure you'll have the place looking perfect in no time, with your good taste and style.'  He said coyly. 

Kingsley looked at him intently. 

'What do you want, Draco?'  He asked with a playful grin. 

'Want...?'  Draco replied innocently.  'Why should I want anything from you Minister?' 

'You know, the muggles have a saying 'you can't kid a kidder'.'  Kingsley began.  'I'm Slytherin, same as you, and I know a charm-offensive when I see one, and right now you're dripping more honey than a swarm of bees... and you look twice as dangerous!'  Kingsley observed, looking at Draco's tight cut robes and seductively long eye lashes. 

Draco was not dissuaded. 

'I can see why you got the job!'  He conceded. 

Kingsley smiled. 

'So level with me.  I like you, kid.  What is it you want?'  Kingsley asked honestly. 

Draco nodded and smiled. 

'I want to talk to you...  About Alastor.'  He said plainly. 

'What about him?'  Kingsley asked. 

Draco decided to be direct. 

'I want you to give him a new job.'  he said flatly. 

Kingsley looked shocked.  He had expected maybe a pay rise...

'Is that what he wants...?'  Kingsley asked. 

Draco paused and smiled.  He stepped close to Kingsley so there were mere inches between them.  he absentmindedly brushed a stray thread off the front of Kingsley's robes and then rested his hand lightly against his chest. 

'Listen, Minister...'  He began.  'I don't know if you have ever been in love with someone...  I mean, **really** in love with someone...  But if you have then you'll understand my position.  Alastor's job is dangerous.  It's very dangerous, I've seen it for myself.  He's worked long and hard in this job and he's done well.  Auror life expectancy hasn't been all that high these last few years as you know.  The numbers have dwindled...' 

'That's a reason why I'd be unlikely to move one of my best Aurors to a different post!'  Kingsley interjected. 

'I understand that.'  Draco smiled calmly and pouted slightly before he continued.  'But hear me out...  I have a proposition for you.' 

'Go on...'  Kingsley said slowly. 

'I would suggest that you create a new post for Alastor, putting him in charge of recruiting and training new Aurors.  You desperately need to get more good people on board and who better to train them than the most famous Auror who ever lived?'  It would get Alastor out of active service but at the same time it wouldn't mean putting him in a desk job - he'd hate that, and the last thing I want is for him to be unhappy!'  Draco explained.  'He'd be teaching and recruiting, so he'd still be really involved, but he'd be safer.'  Emotion crept into Draco's voice.  'Alastor is due to retire in a few years, but in a different role you could keep his expertise for longer.  Please at least consider it Minister.  He's going to be my husband and when he does retire I'd kind of like him, you know...  in one piece.' 

Draco stepped back and smiled an earnest smile. 

Kingsley touched him reassuringly on the arm. 

'It's a sound idea, Draco, but is it what Alastor wants?' 

'You know as well as I do that Alastor would never admit he was ready to step down from active service.'  Draco replied.  'But you must have noticed yourself he's struggling at times to keep up physically.  Not so much in battle, but the other things.  All that walking, he found that hard, I know he did.  I had to give him massages...' 

'OK!  That's enough information thanks!'  Kingsley interrupted quickly.  'And yes, you're right, he would never admit it, would he?  I could offer him a role like you suggest, but would he take it?' 

'He would do what you tell him to do Minister.'  Draco said confidently.  'He respects authority.' 

Kingsley chuckled, remembering many times when Alastor had made decision which went against Ministry orders, but which had usually saved the day in the end. 

'I'll suggest it to him.'  Kingsley said kindly.  'I'll do my best.' 

'Thank you Minister.'  Draco said with a look of relief and gratitude in his deep grey eyes. 

                       *                              *                             *                             *                              *     

'Hello!'  A voice called from the hall as Mr and Mrs Weasley appeared in the doorway. 

'Molly!  Arthur!'  Kingsley beamed and he rushed over to them, giving them both a warm hug in welcome.  'Come in, help yourselves to a drink...' 

'Thank you Kingsley.'  Arthur smiled as he and Molly entered the room, greeting Harry and Ron as they did so. 

Draco and Alastor both stood up to greet them.  Draco hurried over. 

'Draco dear!'  Mrs Weasley beamed, extending her arms and pulling Draco into an embrace. 

'Molly!  Darling!'  Draco gushed with genuine sincerity, kissing her on both cheeks. 

'Molly....?'  Harry whispered to Ron. 

'Yeah.'  Ron whispered back.  'Mum's practically adopted Malfoy these last few weeks.  I came home the other day and Malfoy was having coffee in our kitchen.  They were swapping recipes!'  Ron groaned. 

'Really?'  Harry exclaimed. 

Ron nodded. 

'I think mum's just so glad that old Mad-Eye's got someone to look after him.'  Ron mused. 

'Can't imagine Malfoy cooking and cleaning for him though...'  Harry replied. 

'Well apparently he does!'  Ron told him.  'Mum's been giving him lots of tips because he's never done things like that before.  She taught him how to bake bread and everything.' 

'Imagine that!'  Ginny said, joining them from the kitchen.  'Malfoy in a frilly apron, baking bread for Mad-Eye Moody!'  She laughed a callous laugh.  

'It's actually kind of sweet.'  Harry thought out loud.  'I just mean, I never would have pictured it, but, well...  Malfoy obviously really does love him, doesn't he?'  Harry clarified when he saw the shocked looks of their faces. 

'Guess so.'  Ron replied.  'Talk about an odd couple!' 

Meanwhile, Arthur had shaken Alastor warmly by the hand and then pulled him into a manly hug, slapping his back supportively. 

'Alastor!  Congratulations, my friend.'  He beamed. 

Alastor thanked him and was then hugged by Molly in a warm, maternal embrace, while Arthur greeted Draco with a friendly handshake and a smile. 

Mrs Weasley picked up a large bag she had bought with her. 

'Now I hope you don't mind...'  She began kindly.  'But I've baked some celebration cupcakes for this evening.'  She handed the bag to Kingsley as he was the official host. 

'Wow!  These look great!'  He exclaimed immediately as he lifted out a box of beautiful cakes and set them on the long table where the food was presented. 

'They're beautiful Molly!  Thank you.'  Draco said graciously as he looked at the beautiful cakes with white icing and elegant silver stars to decorate them. 

'Well I know you said you were dieting, Draco dear...'  Molly began, turning to him and taking his hands in hers.  'But the wedding is still 15 months away so you've got plenty of time to diet...  and besides, there's nothing of you in the first place.' 

'I'm not sure my robe designer would agree with you there!'  Draco laughed. 

'Oh!  Have you made a decision about that?'  Molly asked excitedly. 

'Yes.'  Draco confirmed calmly.  'But it's all top secret of course.'  He said glancing at Alastor with a smile.  'I'll tell you all about it next time we have coffee!'  He whispered to Molly. 

In the corner of the room Ginny rolled her eyes. 

'Mum always wanted a daughter!'  she said dryly.  'And Malfoy is more of a big girl than I could ever be!' 

'I'm sure she'll fuss just as much when you get married.'  Ron teased. 

'No she won't.'  Ginny confirmed.  'Because I'm gonna elope and get married in secret if I ever get married at all.'  She grinned.  

'In which case, let her have her moment with Malfoy.'  Harry laughed.  'It sort of gets you off the hook, doesn't it?'

Ginny laughed.

'Hey guys.'  A man's voice called from the door as a couple of newly promoted Aurors arrived. 

They had been involved in the escort mission and received the promotion they had hoped for.  Now they were glowing with pride and feeling very honoured that they had been invited to the engagement party of the greatest Auror of all time, held at the home of the Minister for Magic!  This would be a story they could dine out on for quite some time!  They were both in their mid 20's and were had dressed well for the occasion.  One of them, tall with sandy coloured chin length hair and a strong chiselled jaw line immediately caught Ginny's eye! 

Keen to make a good impression, they settled into the room quickly, congratulating Alastor and Draco warmly and complimenting Kingsley on his house.  Kingsley offered them a drink and then noticed... 

'We're running low on glasses...'  He observed and was about to head to the kitchen. 

'I'll get some, Kingsley, don't worry.'  Draco spoke up in a charming voice. 

'You sure?'  Kingsley asked. 

Draco nodded. 

'Of course.  You've been kind enough to host the party for us, you don't have to wait on us too.'  Draco replied, before he headed to the kitchen. 

'I'll help him.'  Alastor said, following Draco at once, knowing that it was rather a thinly veiled excuse to have a few moments alone with his young fiancée, but also knowing that no one would mind at all. 

Draco was delighted to have been followed by him and the second they were alone, Alastor took Draco in his arms and kissed him on the lips, the kiss deepening almost instantly as Draco yielded to him right away.  He opened his mouth and Alastor's tongue slipped inside where Draco sucked on it hungrily.  His eager hands gripped Alastor's broad back tightly.  Alastor's thick arms wrapped all the way around Draco's narrow frame and he held him firmly against his body with a sigh of pleasure as he caressed his beautiful form.  It was lovely, just lovely, to have a moment alone.  It was lovely to be able to kiss like this, whenever they wanted to.  It was lovely that people were accepting them and happy for them...  But as Alastor lost himself further and further in exploring Draco's physique through his perfect satin robes, he began to think it might be nicer if all of their friends weren't here tonight! 

'You look beautiful this evening...'  He whispered gruffly in Draco's ear when he managed to stop kissing him for a second. 

'Thank you.'  Draco replied with a satisfied smile.  'I got these robes especially for the party.' 

'You look great in them.'  Alastor said.  'But you'd look better out of them....'  He continued lustfully, placing his lips to Draco's neck and nuzzling against him. 

'Of course I would.'  Draco replied casually.  'But you'll have to wait for that, won't you?'  He teased, running his fingers affectionately through Alastor's hair. 

Alastor groaned needily. 

'Really...?'   He mumbled as he pushed Draco gently up against the sideboard.  'How long do we actually have to stay here...?' 

'It's **our** engagement party!'  Draco laughed.  'We can't leave until the end!' 

'Really?'  Alastor asked again, his hands running up and down his young lover.  'I mean...  It's nice of everyone to come and everything, but I can think of other ways I'd rather spend the evening...'  He whispered suggestively in Draco's ear. 

Draco giggled and squirmed with pleasure as the sensation of Alastor's breath on his skin. 

'OK, so can I...'  He conceded.  'But Kingsley arranged this party for us, we at least have to stay until we've seen everyone.  Besides, I bought these robes for the occasion...  I need to get my money's worth out of them.' 

'They'll be worth every penny when I'm stripping them off you...'  Alastor whispered, thrusting against Draco. 

'You don't know how much I spent on them!'  Draco laughed. 

Alastor laughed too. 

'It's your parents money you're spending.'  He replied.  'You can do what you like with it!  And you do look damn sexy this evening.  I'd call it a good investment.' 

Draco hugged him tightly, loving how well their differences worked together. 

'Well, tomorrow we have no plans...'  Draco whispered.  'Tomorrow we can do whatever you like.  I'll cook you breakfast and then I'm all yours for the whole day.'  He smiled. 

'Gods, you're perfect...'  Alastor whispered, feeling the flutter of exhilaration which came with these moments of joyous disbelief that this was even happening. 

'I know I am.'  Draco beamed, caressing Alastor's face and kissing him swiftly on the lips.  'Now, come on.  We need to get back out there.  I don't think everyone's had a proper chance to look at this diamond...'  Draco grinned as he admired the enormous rock on his finger. 

Alastor laughed. 

'Glasses...'  He reminded Draco who was already heading to the door.  'We came in here to get more glasses, remember...?' 

'Oh yeah!'  Draco giggled as they hurriedly located some before returning to the main room. 

They set the glasses down on the drinks table and Alastor sat down once more on the small sofa.  Draco stood just to the side of him and seemed to be eyeing the guests in the room, deciding who deserved the chance to have a better look at his engagement ring. 

Harry was watching the scene from the corner of the room with Ron and was beginning to feel rather childish.  Hermione had managed to mingle with the adults in the room and was now deep in conversation with Savage, and the two newly promoted Aurors who had just arrived.  Harry was kicking himself.  He should have gone to talk to Savage.  He knew her after all, she had been with the advanced guard when they rescued him from Privet Drive.  Instead he was standing in the corner with Ron, as even Ginny had suddenly decided to go and chat with Hermione...  Which had nothing at all to do with the fact she was talking to the handsome, sandy haired Auror, of course. 

Harry wondered who he could talk to.  Mixing in social settings like this had never been his strong point.  Then he noticed Malfoy was not yet talking to anyone.  Perhaps he could make the effort to talk to Malfoy...?  He sauntered over. 

'So, you've picked out a wedding dress then, have you Malfoy?'  he asked with a grin. 

' **Robes** , Potter.  Not a dress.'  Draco hissed. 

Harry had only meant to tease, not to offend and was relieved when a couple of people, including Mad-Eye, laughed. 

Draco pouted crossly, but he didn't look really angry.  Harry wouldn't have admitted it to anyone else, but there was a certain charm about Malfoy when he looked like that.  It wasn't Harry's thing, but he could see what Mad-Eye saw in him. 

'Sorry.'  Harry grinned. 

'And I'm not picking a design off the shelf!'  Draco exclaimed.  'I'm working with a designer to create something bespoke.  As if I would wear an off-the-peg dress!' 

'Robes...'  Harry corrected him. 

Draco flushed pink. 

'That's what I said.'  He snapped. 

'And what about Auror Moody?'  Harry asked.  'What's he wearing for the occasion?' 

'Well that's a little more difficult of course.'  Draco began.  'I mean, poor Alastor knows even less about fashion than you do, Potter.  It's going to take a bit of effort to get him looking presentable...  Isn't it darling...?  Draco directed his comment towards Alastor. 

Alastor who was chatting with Dawlish, didn't hear him. 

'Alastor!'  Draco snapped crossly, stamping his foot. 

Moody sighed and turned round.

'Yes, my little Hungarian Horntail...?'  He said patiently, extending his hand to Draco.

Draco blushed and took his hand obediently. 

'I was just telling Potter about how difficult it is to get you to wear anything presentable for the wedding.'  Draco said sweetly.  'But I think we've found a designer who's up to the challenge.' 

Alastor encouraged Draco to come and sit beside him.  He turned to his colleagues. 

'Yes, for some reason my dearly beloved seems to think I need some new formal wear to get married in.'  Alastor said.  'Apparently he thinks my kilt and waistcoat look isn't quite smart enough.' 

Several of Alastor's colleagues laughed. 

'I can't imagine why!'  Kingsley said sarcastically.  He spotted Harry hovering.  'Pull up a seat, Harry.'  he invited. 

Harry did as instructed and felt much better for being part of the group. 

'So are we actually going to see you in some new clothes then, boss?'  Dawlish asked. 

'It would appear so.'  Moody replied gruffly.  'Draco spends more on clothes in a week that I do in a year.' 

His comment was clearly not a criticism though because as he spoke he slipped his arm around Draco's shoulders and pulled him close. 

' **I** spend more on clothes in a week than you do in a year!'  Dawlish teased. 

'At least you buy practical things.'  Moody interjected.  'Honestly, you wouldn't believe some of the shops we've been into!'  He exclaimed.  'It's a different world, it really is.  All these fancy designs and flimsy fabrics...  Nothing hardwearing, nothing durable and strong.' 

'It's for your wedding day!'  Draco exclaimed exasperatedly as thought this was a conversation they were having not for the first time.  'The idea is to look good.  You don't need to be kitted out for action and be ready for battle!' 

'Yeah, you have to wait for the wedding night for that!'  Dawlish joined in. 

'Thank you, John.'  Draco said with a roll of his eyes, but a playful tone, as though he were well accustomed to Dawlish's teasing by now.

'I don't suppose some new clothes will do me any harm, in any case.'  Alastor conceded and smiled slipping his hand into Draco's. 

'Might harm your bank balance!'  Dawlish laughed. 

'No need to worry about that.'  Draco smiled an evil smile.  'My parents are being surprisingly generous when it comes to paying for the wedding...  Of course, being in Azkaban they don't actually know  quite how generous they're being...  But it's the least they can do as they won't even be there for my special day.' 

'And are you planning to live at the Manor?'  Arthur asked curiously.  'I heard one of the Ministry lawyers mention that you have requested the deeds be transferred into your name, Draco.' 

Draco shook his head. 

'No.  We don't intend to live there.'  He confirmed.  'We are going to continue living at Alastor's house.  It's really coming together now, with the renovation and redesign work I've been doing.  I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.'  He smiled at Alastor, who smiled back with equal affection.  'I have other plans for the manor.'  Draco said quietly. 

'You mean you're going to sell it?'  Harry interjected.  'That should give you enough to pay for a wedding...  even **your** wedding Malfoy!' 

Draco scowled at him. 

'I'm not exactly selling it.'  He hissed.  'Anyway, it doesn't matter what I do with it.  I can do what I like with it.' 

There was a confused silence until Kingsley spoke. 

'You can't keep it a secret forever, Draco!'  he grinned. 

Everyone in the room was now listening, wanting to know exactly what it was Malfoy wanted to keep secret. 

'Draco has given Malfoy manor to the Ministry with an agreement that it be converted and run as a care home for children who have been orphaned in the war.  On both sides of the battle.  The ethos we drew up together is that the place will teach tolerance and understanding and that all the children will be treated fairly, regardless of which side their parents fought on.'  Kingsley announced.  

There were universally stunned expressions on the faces of the people in the room, except Alastor who looked proud and knowing, and Draco who looked bitter and cross. 

'Draco doesn't want anyone to know because then they'll realise what a good hearted person he is and it will ruin his bad-boy image.'  Kingsley concluded with a grin. 

'Shut up, Shacklebolt!'  Draco snapped crossly. 

Some people looked shocked. 

'I don't think my fiancée meant to be so rude, Minister!'  Alastor said firmly. 

'Yes I did!'  Draco responded. 

'Of course he did.'  Kingsley smiled.  'And you've been far ruder to me in the past, Alastor, and I'd be disappointed if you suddenly stopped just because I've been promoted.'  He laughed. 

Harry was still reeling from the revelation about the manor. 

'That's such a nice thing to do!'  he exclaimed.  'Why wouldn't you want people to know about it?' 

'Because I'm not some do-gooder.'  Draco replied tetchily.  'The place is far too big for Alastor and I to live there.  I'm selling off most of the furniture, keeping a few things that we need, but other than that, well, the place may as well be used for something.' 

Before anyone else could pass comment on Draco's decision there was a loud excited screech from the doorway as Tonks announced her arrival.  She was closely followed by a tall, rather skinny woman with long curly hair, who had an alarming look of Bellatrix about her.  Only, this woman was smiling.  She wore skin tight navy blue jeans and a slouchy, trendy yellow-gold jumper adorned with large, eccentric pieces of jewellery.  Her hair was dark like Bellatrix's, but where she had light streaks she had dyed them bright pink.  She was stunning and vivacious and that made her nothing like Bellatrix at all, save the unfortunate family resemblance. 

Tonks rushed over to Moody who stood up to greet her.  She flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly. 

'Congratulations, you miserable old bastard!'  She gushed excitedly.  'I'm so freaking happy for you, you know that?' 

'Thank you Nympha...  Tonks.'  Alastor corrected himself in time. 

Tonks turned to Draco and beamed at him. 

'My little cousin!'  She exclaimed, taking hold of his hands and then deciding this was no time to hold back, and she pulled him into an equally forceful hug.  'Let me introduce you to your aunt...'  She offered. 

Draco was both nervous and excited about this.  He had come to accept that all of his family were evil and detestable, but now he was discovering there were one or two family members who had escaped the family tradition of the dark arts.  He had never been allowed to meet them, or even to really know of their existence.  But they **did** exist and they **were** his family, and now, at last he was able to meet them.    

'Oh, Merlin's beard!'  Andromeda exclaimed as Tonks presented Draco to her and she looked him up and down.  'Well aren't you just a little treasure!  Got the Black family cheekbones, that's for sure, but the Malfoy sleek white hair.  What a stunning combination!  I can see why you fell for him, Alastor.'  She winked. 

Alastor coughed awkwardly.

'Draco...'  She continued.  'I'm your aunt Andromeda.  I've always wanted to meet you.'  She smiled warmly, and sensing that the boy was a little overwhelmed, she pulled him into a warm friendly hug right away. 

Alastor rested his hand on Draco's shoulder, knowing this would be emotional for him. 

'Awwww....  Family hug!'  Tonks cried, diving onto the group. 

Draco laughed.  When Andromeda stepped back from the embrace, Draco looked a little flushed with emotion, but he was not actually crying.  Alastor kept his arm around him to support him just in case. 

'You're going to have a proper family now, kid.'  Andromeda said kindly, stroking his face affectionately.  'And if there's one thing that brings families together it's a wedding.'  She beamed.  'Nymphodora and I will be there to help you every step of the way.  Anything at all you need, just ask.' 

'Thank you aunt Andromeda.'  Draco managed. 

'Oh, please...  call me Andi.'  She smiled warmly. 

Tonks had turned round and had already greeted Harry with her usual friendly banter.  Kingsley stood up to offer Tonks and Andromeda a drink. 

'Andromeda...  You get more beautiful every time I see you...'  He began.

'And you get more smooth talking, Auror Shacklebolt.'  Andromeda smiled coyly.  'Or should I call you, **Minister** Shacklebolt now?'

'You can call me whatever you like, beautiful lady.'  Kingsley said smoothly, kissing her hand in greeting.  'Now, can I get you two ladies a drink?'   

Andromeda rolled her eyes. 

'Such a charmer!'  She laughed.  'And yes, certainly you can.'  She replied.

Drinks were poured and toasts were made.  Harry relaxed a little more now that Tonks was there.  Her lively nature drew everyone into the conversation and put him at ease.  Even Ron drifted over after a while. 

Draco stayed devotedly at Alastor's side, talking in a charming way, to the other Aurors and to Kingsley, conversing with his new Aunt and even occasionally interacting with Harry. 

Champagne flowed and the party got into full swing.   Considerable amounts of alcohol had been consumed by many of the attendees, including Tonks who was now in full party mode. 

'There's gonna be some dancing, right?'  She called to Kingsley from across the room.  'You've got a massive house here!  Well big enough for dancing if we push this table back!' 

She was right too.  The entertaining space was huge. 

'If people want dancing I'm not going to stand in anyone's way.'  Kingsley grinned making his way over to help Tonks move the table. 

'Oooh Dancing!'  Andromeda cried excitedly and she jumped up to turn up the music which had been playing quietly in the background from the enchanted music box. 

Ginny smiled and flicked back her long waterfall of fiery red hair.  She had just finished telling the sandy haired Auror about how she had been selected for the Hollyhead Harpies under 21s team, and he seemed to be suitably impressed. 

'I might be good on a broom...'  She laughed flirtatiously,  'But I don't know about on a dance floor!' 

'Let's find out, shall we...?  The handsome Auror flirted back and they made their way to the floor. 

Tonks grabbed her mother's hand and grabbed hold of Molly too. 

'Come on!'  She prompted, pulling them along with her.  'Hey!  Bride-zilla!'  She shouted to Draco.  'Come and have a dance with your favourite cousin!'

Harry thought it was very odd to see Malfoy being so good natured, but he did as Tonks instructed and he walked onto the newly cleared dance floor.  He danced with Andromeda and with Tonks and with Molly Weasley, somehow managing to look both fun loving and incredibly graceful at the same time. 

'He's a changed person from how I remember!'  A familiar and warm voice spoke up beside Harry. 

Harry turned round to face Remus and he smiled.  It was a rather over enthusiastic smile.  It was the smile he seemed to wear more and more when he spoke to Remus Lupin. 

'He certainly seems...  I don't know...  nicer?  Happier...?'  Harry replied. 

'I guess that's love for you!'  Remus commented. 

Harry blushed more than was really necessary. 

'Even Alastor seems less grumpy!'  Remus continued as he glanced at his friend who was smiling and chatting to Kingsley about where he and Draco hoped to go on honeymoon.  'I never thought I'd see him like this.  I'm very happy for him.' 

Harry nodded in agreement. 

'They are an unlikely couple though, aren't they?'  Remus thought out loud.  'But I suppose you just never know who you're going to fall in love with, do you?' 

'Errr....  No.  I guess not...'  Harry managed, blushing frantically.  Quickly he make his excuses to go and talk to Ron.  Ron was safe.  He never blushed like that when he talked to Ron.  In fact, it was really only Remus who had that effect on him.  It was most unnerving.

'I just wanna know who's gonna take who's name.'  Ron joked to Hermione. 

'Alastor Malfoy?'  Hermione laughed.  'No.  I can't see that.' 

'Especially not as Malfoy is clearly the 'girl' in the relationship.'  Ron added. 

Hermione gave him a cross look and he corrected himself. 

'Well, not the 'girl' then, but you know what I mean!  The... errr....'

'Bottom?'  Harry suggested with a mischievous grin. 

'Ewwww!'  Ron exclaimed.  'Yes.  That.  The 'submissive partner'.  Thanks for the mental image!' 

'So does that mean he'll become Draco Moody, do you reckon?'  Harry said. 

'I think he should hyphenate.'  Hermione said smartly.  'Draco Moody-Malfoy.  It would suit him wouldn't it?'

The three of them laughed at the idea, happily unaware that Draco himself, who had disappeared into the kitchen had overheard their laughter was now on his way to see just what they all thought was so funny.  Harry, who stood facing Ron and Hermione, saw him emerge from the kitchen door way, but was unable to stop Ron from continuing the conversation. 

'They're a seriously weird couple though, aren't they!'  He exclaimed.  'I mean, especially given the Mad-Eye was our teacher for a year.  Sure, I know it turned out that it wasn't really him, but it must be a bit odd for Malfoy, mustn't it?' 

Ron either didn't notice or chose to ignore Harry's attempts to tell him, as subtly as possible, to shut the hell up. 

'Hey...'  Ron laughed.  'Do you reckon they've talked about it?  That year, I mean?  Do you reckon Mad-Eye turns Malfoy into a ferret sometimes...  you know... to shut him up, or like maybe they have a kink for it?'

Hermione seemed to think this comment was more ridiculous than funny, but Ron couldn't understand why Harry wasn't laughing...  Until he turned round and saw Draco standing right behind him, arms folded, eyebrows raised and a haughty sneer on his face. 

'Enjoying the party?'  Draco asked slickly. 

Harry nodded frantically, hoping to keep the peace. 

'Don't need any more drinks or anything...?'  Draco offered smoothly.  'Perhaps something to eat...?  Or are you all quite happy over here in the corner discussing my sex life?'  He asked in an arrogant tone, delighted he had caught them out. 

'Listen, Malfoy...  We weren't...  Really...  It's your business...'  Harry began but Draco cut him off. 

'Weasley here seems very interested.'  Draco observed.  'Try listening a little harder at the kitchen door next time I'm talking to your mother.'  Draco grinned.  'We mostly talk about cooking, and housekeeping...  but you know how it is...  The subject of sex comes up from time to time.' 

Ron went as white as a sheet.  Surely to the gods his mother didn't talk to Malfoy about things like that? 

Draco leant in close to him. 

'But seeing as though you all want to know **so** badly...'  He smiled sadistically.  'Yes.  Yes he does.  He turns me into a ferret all the time.  Not with transfiguration though.  I have a ferret costume that I wear for him.' 

Draco smiled coyly and ran one hand slowly up his own thigh...

'Long white stockings...'  He drawled. 

He raised his hands to his hair. 

'Cute little ears...' 

He took a step as though he were going to walk away, but at the last second he turned back, glancing over his shoulder and placing his hand in the small of his back, fingers pointing down towards his ass...

'And a long, white tail.'  He finished in a slow, silky, suggestive voice.   

With that, he gave a satisfied smile and strutted away, over to his fiancée who he greeted with a very enthusiastic kiss.

Hermione wasn't sure she actually believed what Malfoy said, although she wouldn't put it past him for it be true either.  However, true or not, she and Harry could both agree, it was worth it for the look of horror on Ron's face and they thought it was fair to say it would be a while before he made any crude speculations in the future.        

The party lasted late into the night.  Around midnight, Zafinia Zabini put in an appearance, bringing with her, her son Blaise.  She wore a long, deep red, close fitting gown and an elaborate necklace.  She greeted Draco graciously, complimenting him on his outfit and admiring the diamond ring on his finger. 

In truth Zafinia was a little disappointed.  She had heard that her son had become friendly with the sole heir to the Malfoy estates, and had secretly nurtured a hope that the friendship might develop into something more.  Sadly Blaise's interests had lain in other directions and now the beautiful, rich Malfoy boy had been snapped up by someone else.  Zafinia sighed.  She glanced at Alastor and concluded that being head Auror must pay extremely well! 

Once Zafinia arrived, Kingsley reined in his flirting with every other woman in the room.  Andromeda's husband had arrived by this time anyway and besides, his flirting with her was more playful than serious.  They were old friends. 

It had been noted by several of the Aurors that Zafinia Zabini was taking a greater interest in Kingsley since he had been promoted to Minister for Magic, and she was being treated with a certain degree of suspicion.  However, Draco interacted well with her, happily discussing the potential details of the wedding day.  Zafinia shared her wealth of experience in wedding planning and discussed the pros and cons of the venues she had used for each of her 7 weddings.

'We want to keep it intimate.'  Draco explained to her in his most sophisticated voice.  'Nothing too ostentatious.  Tasteful, you know.  Just our closest friends and family...  and the Daily Prophet of course.' 

Zafinia nodded understandingly. 

'And you're having a spring wedding?'  She asked. 

'It's the best time for the flowers we want.'  Draco smiled.

'Mind if I cut in...'  Kingsley announced his presence by tapping Draco lightly on the shoulder. 

He and Alastor had been talking across the room for some time and had decided, in the interest of Alastor's bank balance, it could be worth separating Draco and Zafinia before they got too deeply involved in wedding planning.  

'I wondered if I could get a dance with my woman...?'  Kingsley said to Zafinia. 

'Of course, Minister.'  Zafinia glowed as she took Kingsley's extended hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. 

Alastor looked at Draco and Draco looked at Alastor.  They smiled at each other the way two lovesick teenagers do, and actually felt quite embarrassed about it.  Alastor stepped close to Draco and put his arm around his shoulders. 

'I hope Kingsley knows what he's doing.'  Draco said, watching the couple dancing. 

'Some people are saying the same about me...'  Alastor pointed out. 

'When I have 7 ex husbands dead and buried they'll have every right to be concerned.'  Draco laughed. 

'I think Kingsley knows what he's doing.'  Alastor said confidently.  'Besides, I'm the last person who could really raise the subject with him.' 

'I guess not.'  Draco laughed.  'But I like how no one is concerned for **my** welfare!  No one is worried about me!  Thinking that **you** might be marrying **me** for my money!' 

'They all know I'm marrying you because you're 18 years old and smoking hot.'  Alastor whispered in his gruff rasping voice which made Draco feel a little weak at the knees. 

'Can we...  Can we dance?'  Draco asked softly. 

A slow song had just begun to play and everyone on the dance floor was now in a couple.  Kingsley and Zafinia, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and the sandy haired Auror...  Even Arthur and Molly were dancing. 

Alastor thought for a moment, feeling a little nervous. 

'I suppose we can.'  He said after a pause.  'I expect we'll have to at the wedding.  Might as well get some practice in.' 

Draco beamed and took his hand excitedly.  Alastor propped his staff up against the wall and he and Draco made their way to the centre of the floor to a chorus of _'Awwwwwww!'_   from several people in the room.

Draco slipped his arm around Alastor's neck and rested one hand on his shoulder.  Alastor held Draco around his narrow waist and placed one hand on the back of his neck.  They leant gently towards each other.  They stepped in small swaying steps, cuddling each other, Draco resting his head on Alastor's shoulder. 

It worked. 

They worked together.  Even in the eyes of the onlookers it worked.  They were certainly a most bizarre contrast for each other, but there was no way to deny it:  It worked. 

Alastor felt Draco's lips curl into a smile against his neck. 

'We're good at this.'  Draco whispered happily.  'We should dance together all the time.'

'Hummmm....'  Alastor replied.  'I suppose if I have to dance then I'll dance with you.' 

Draco squeezed him tightly and they shared a fleeting kiss.  It was all so strange and new, yet somehow so natural. 

Eventually the party drew to a close.  Tonks, aided by her father, assisted Andromeda home, but not before Andromeda had hugged Draco several times and told him over and over just how delighted she was to meet him. 

The Weasleys prepared to leave on mass, Harry and Hermione with them. 

Draco stood chatting to Remus as Harry said his goodbyes.  Summoning all his courage he approached. 

'Thanks for inviting me, Malfoy.'  He said warmly extending his hand to Draco.  When Draco took it Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to shake it or kiss it.  He opted for shake.  'And I'm sorry about Ron.  He's a bit immature sometimes.'  Harry added. 

To his surprise Draco gave him quite a gracious smile. 

'Don't worry Potter.'  Draco said.  'And thank you for coming tonight.' 

'It was a pleasure.'  Harry said sounding a little surprised.  'I hope you and Auror Moody will be very happy together.' 

Draco nodded and smiled.  Potter seemed to have become a lot less irritating these days, and Draco certainly had a lot more time for him since he saved the world and spared Draco from a fate worse than death! 

Harry, who was coming to realise that Draco was a lot less of a jerk than he had once thought, almost wanted to mention something about Draco's plans for the Manor and how generous they were, but he thought better of it.  Instead he turned to Remus.  

'Errrr.....  Goodnight, professor Lupin.'  He managed. 

Remus took hold of his hand to shake it and Harry jumped with nerves. 

'Please Harry, call me Remus.'  He said gently.  'Professor sounds so formal and you're not my student any more, are you?' 

Harry felt his face turning red, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed Draco trying hard not to smirk. 

'Errrr.... no.  I guess not.'  Harry said.  'Errr....  Goodnight Remus.' 

'Goodnight Harry.'  Remus replied. 

Harry stood and stared for a second too long. 

'Oh.  Right.'  He said awkwardly.  'I'll be going then.' 

'See you Potter.'  Draco said with a knowing grin and he began to plan an intimate dinner party where he and Alastor could 'accidently' forget to invite any guests except Remus and Harry...

The main room emptied and Kingsley escorted Alastor to the hallway.  By the door, Draco was once again in animated conversation with Zafinia as he put on his cloak ready to leave. 

'Congratulations, old friend.'  Kingsley said, pulling Alastor into a warm, manly hug, slapping his back affectionately. 

'Thank you, Shacklebolt...  Minister.'  Alastor replied in an equally friendly tone.  'And thank you for hosting tonight.' 

'It was a pleasure.'  Kingsley replied.  'And I guess I'll see you Monday morning for your first day in your new job.' 

'Yes, I guess so.'  Alastor replied in a voice which indicated he was still coming to terms with the idea he was no longer in active service. 

He and Kingsley glanced down the corridor.  Draco was positively glowing as he described to Zafinia the elaborate venue styling arrangements he had in mind for the wedding and Zafinia offered him some useful tips on the best, and no doubt most expensive suppliers. 

'Listen man...  Good luck.  I mean that.'  Kingsley said sincerely. 

'I'm only going to be teaching a few cadets!'  Alastor laughed.  'I don't think I'll need luck.' 

'I didn't mean about the job.'  Kingsley clarified as he nodded towards the clearly slightly tipsy Draco who was now outlining the honeymoon plans. 

'Ah...'  Alastor replied. 

Kingsley grinned to show he was not entirely serious. 

'I think you'll be alright.'  He confirmed.  Then he grinned again.  'Constant Vigilance!'  He said, slapping Alastor's shoulder. 

Alastor laughed and he glanced again at Draco, knowing how deeply he trusted him and how utterly unnecessary it was to be vigilant.  However, he replied in a gruff but amused voice, with an affirmative nod of his head,

'Constant vigilance!'

With that, Alastor bid his friend good night, and taking a very smiley, loved up Draco by the arm, he escorted his beautiful young fiancée back to their home. 

 

The End. 


End file.
